


Magical Murphy

by Captainmintyfresh



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Physical Abuse, Slow Burn, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:21:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 70,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9413630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captainmintyfresh/pseuds/Captainmintyfresh
Summary: For Clarke and Wells Hogwarts is a no brainer, another step on the lives they've been groomed to lead, for Bellamy it's a home with his sister, for Jasper and Monty a play ground, Miller a chance to find who he really is, To raven it's a school and to Murphy,it's a home and a school and a safe harbour, it's a new beginning, a dream he never dared to have because he knew he'd never be able to wake  up after seeing something so perfect, it's everything.Follow them through their 7 years at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and everything it has to offer.





	1. The letter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [non-platonic-murphamy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=non-platonic-murphamy).



> After non-platonic-murphamy made an awesome patrnous/hogwarts edit for Murphamy i just had to write it for her but then i got a bit carried away so behold, the Murphamy Hogwarts!Au.  
> Because what would be better than putting the boys who won't die into the boy who lived's world.  
> (Only Ollivander will appear in this fic (and perhaps Filch.))

“My names Abigail Griffin, you must be John Murphy.” Murphy eyed the woman standing on the doorstep.

“You look weird.” Murphy said bluntly. The woman's lips thinned, eyes narrowing as she looked down at the small boy. He wanted to reach out, to touch the velvet-soft looking material hanging around her shoulders, it was a deep red, tied at her neck, a cloak, like she were in the middle ages. He peered past her, expecting to see a horse, of course there wasn't one, his eyes slid back to her. “What do you want?”

“I would like to talk to you and your mother.” Abigail said, shimming past him into the house, her cloak pulling over his head blinding him for a moment.

“Mum's not here.” Murphy lied, throwing the cloak off his head. “Besides we don't need to buy any chamber pots so I think we're good.”

“Murphy. Shut the door.” His mum called from the living room.

“Your mother, I presume?”

“She won't want to talk, you should-”

“Mrs Murphy!” Murphy groaned as Abigail swooped through the house, without a glance backwards at him. He stood still for a moment before slamming the door shut, ignoring the shout of protest from his mother before he followed after the woman into the living room. Abigail stood, hand reaching out to Cleo. Murphy wanted to laugh as he looked between them. Abigail in her robe, and a long dress far fancier, and probably more expensive, than anything they owed, her hair pulled into a neat hairstyle that the loose waves in her hair twine across each other and roll towards her shoulders. And Cleo, sat on the sofa in the clothes he knew for a fact he'd seen her wearing the past two days. The stain of food sat on the collar, a wet patch of spilt drink on her chest, hair pulled into the messy ponytail, done with an elastic band that he'd given her the night before when she'd been face down in the toilet.

Abigail didn't seem put off by Cleo's distasteful glare at her hand, nor the way she just looked past her and took a swig of the beer in her hand.

“John, I have a letter for you.” Abigail said, pulling it out of nowhere and holding it out to him. Murphy eyed it warily before he took it. He ignored the address, ripping through the envelope and unfurling the letter. He skimmed over it, lips down turning every line.

“Funny joke.” Murphy snapped. “Stop wasting our time, I'm busy.”

“Nothing of the sort John. I'm Abigail Griffin. I work at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. I'm here to explain-”

“What? So you're a witch?” Murphy snorted.

“Yes.” She said tersely.

“If you're a witch then my mums not an alcoholic.” Murphy said, wincing at the hand suddenly cuffing him over the back of the head.

“Watch your mouth.” Cleo grunted. “And let me see.” She ripped the letter out of his hands, eyes skimming across it.

“Show me something.” Murphy said. “If you really are 'magic'.” He waved his hands, twinkling his fingers a sardonic smile on his face.

“Okay.” Abigail pulled a thin wooden stick from her cloak, her eyes scanning the room. “Perfect.” She decided, walking over towards the armchair where Clawdia sat, sprawled across the cushion, speckled belly up. She pointed her wand, tapping gently at Clawdia's belly, the cat's eyes opened, blinking at the woman standing before her. “Vera verto.” Abigail said, after she did two more taps. The laughter was quickly gone from Murphy's face when Clawdia shifted, body morphing fast. Becoming sleek and glassy. A water goblet. Clawdia was a water goblet. Abigail's eyes fell on him for a moment, a smirk lifting her lips as if to say 'told you so' before she was tapping Clawdia the water goblet again with her stick and within moments Clawdia the cat was back.

“I would like to sit and talk with both of you about Hogwarts, explain everything and answer any questions that you may have, I hope, after we're done talking, you would hope to attend Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.

“Mum-” Murphy started.

“Do what you want. I don't care” Cleo said, standing up and marching from the room. Murphy grit his teeth, turning back to Abigail who was looking after her with a frown. He flinched as a bottle broke from the kitchen, a string of swear words pouring from the open door.

“Don't touch it!” He said, stomping into the kitchen, he shooed his mother over to the other side, ignoring her giggling as she moved to pour another drink. Murphy begun picking up the pieces of the broken bottle quickly, ignoring the harsh stench of the alcohol spreading across the floor.

“Reparo.” Murphy froze as the piece swooped from his hands, towards the ones still littering the floor and begun clicking in place, the cracks sealing, piece moulding back together leaving a perfectly fine, but empty, bottle.

“Would I learn how to do that?”

“You'd learn to do so much more than that.”

“I doubt you could teach this one much. I've been trying to knock sense into him for years.” Cleo said with a hearty laugh.

“Come with me.” Abigail said, too loudly for the quiet room. Murphy knew the voice, he'd heard it many times from his mothers friends, trying to coax him away from the crazy woman, as if ten minutes out of the way would solve anything, like they could hide him from the truth. “I'll get you set up with everything you need and bring you home. That is, of course, if you want to come to Hogwarts? It's a boarding school so-”

“Let's go.” Murphy decided, standing up and shooing Abigail out.

*

“You don't seem too shocked for a muggleborn.” Abigail said once they were walking down the grey streets of London. Murphy gave a shrug.

“What kid doesn't want magic powers.” he answered, squinting up into the clouds, searching for the sun. He could feel Abigail's eyes on him, along with a number of people on street, although they were more looking at Abigail, her cloak flowing behind her. “So tell me, Abigail, where are we going?”

“Call me Abby. At school of course I will be Miss Griffin, or professor Griffin, but here, Abby is fine. We're going shopping.”

“Shopping?”

“For your supplies. You can't very well turn up without robes or equipment can you?” She said, Murphy's lips twisted, hand digging in his pocket, feeling the cool copper change. If he was lucky he'd have a few quid on him. “There are funds, for families who can't afford to send their children to school.”

“I can afford it.” Murphy said quickly. “Just need a bit of time.”

“Well, we can buy it with the fund then you can pay it back if you want to later?” Abby said in the patented parental pity voice he'd learnt from the other parents at school. “Here it is.” Abby pointed to the door a small pub and Murphy felt his stomach drop out.

“A pub?” Murphy croaked, looking up to meet Abby's eyes.

“Come on.” Abby walked forwards, into the the pub. Murphy sighed, looking down the street, it a good hour walk back to his, back to a drunken mother. Perhaps with Abby he could at least get a packet of crisps out of it. Resigning himself to the fate of a few hours sitting on uncomfortable bar stools watching the mad woman in a cloak drink Murphy shoved his hands in his pockets, ducked his head and followed Abby into the pub.

Instead of going straight the bar like Murphy expected she walked past it, checking over her shoulder every other step to ensure he was following. Murphy did a closed lipped smile to a man with no teeth swaying on a seat. Murphy almost stopped again when she walked all the way through the pub and out the back door, into a small alley. He listened to the click of the door shutting behind him eyeing Abby warily as she stepped up to the wall and pulled out her wand. Murphy watched as she tapped it against the bricks.

The breath rushed from his lungs as the bricks begun moving, turning and twisting, reshaping the wall to leave a doorway onto a crowded street. People of all ages rushed along it, some with pointy hats that you could buy at a Halloween store. Cloaks of all colours, shiny suits made of what looked like scales far too big to be a reptile he knew of. Cheerful shouts sounded as children sprinted, weaving through legs.. Parents dragging their little ones from shop to shop. Hoots came from owls sat in cages a few meters into the street.

“This, is Diagon Alley.” Abby said with a proud smile.

“Woah.” Murphy breathed, trying to look at everything.

“Stay close now.” Abby warned before she was walking again. Murphy trotted after her, ignoring the urge to grab the back of her cloak and hold on tight so he wouldn't get lost in the hustle and bustle of the street.

“Busy day, lots of people getting their school supplies.” Abby said. Murphy barely heard her his eyes on what looked like the biggest shop on the street apart from the giant, lopsided building at the far end. Painted in a mix of gaudy orange and a vivid purple.

“What's that?” Murphy asked, pointing to it.

“Weasley's wizard wheezes, a favourite of a lot of students I'm sure. Why don't we take a look?” Murphy gave a quick nod, an odd sense of excitement bubbling through them, he could hear the laughter from inside as they got closer. See the bright bursts of colours through the windows, a group of teenagers rushed out shouting to one another, showing off what they'd bought.

There was too much to look at once he got inside. Fireworks were exploding around the room, a tank of fluffy multi-coloured creatures bounced around to his left. What looked like a miniature dragon was scuttling round an enclosure, breathing fire to heat up treats. A kid was literally walking up a wall.

“John.” Murphy pulled his eyes from the creature to look at Abby. “I need to get my daughters school supplies as well, if you want to look around while I buy some of the more basic stuff that's okay, I could come get you for your wand and your robes.”

“My wand?” Murphy asked. “I get a wand?”

“I'll be back soon, have fun.” Abby said.

Murphy moved slowly around the shop. Stopping in front of every item to inspect it. He found himself laughing when a boy turned into a giant canary then back again.

It felt like it had only been moments when a hand was resting gently on his shoulder, Abby smiling down at him, ushering him from the shop and into a new one.

“This is Madam Malkin's.” Abby explained. “We'll get you some robes and then go on to Ollivanders.”

“Do I have to dress like you?” Abby didn't answer, just nudged him towards one of the blocks.

A half hour later he was leaving with bags full of school robes. Yes, bags. Murphy was sure no bursary's would go as far as to buying multiple uniforms. He was lucky at his current school if he could get a shirt _and_ a jumper. Let alone three dark black robes, a handful of ties and more white shirts and black slacks than anyone should ever own. Still, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Abby was giving him extra stuff he wasn't about to cry about it.

“Why don't I take this and get us a table at the leaky cauldron while you go to ollivanders?” Abby asked, pulling the bags out of Murphy's hand and pointing towards a shop.

“I spend enough time in pubs.” Murphy mumbled under his breath, he saw Abby's lips thin telling him he'd heard the statement.

“I'll wait here then.” Abby shooed him once more leaving Murphy to shuffle towards the shop. The paint on the sign was peeling, flakes curling off from the sign like burning paper. He walked in, sniffing at the damp smell that seemed to slither in and out of the mosaic of boxes covering the walls.

His eyes were drawn to a boy, probably the same age as himself standing nattering away at the counter with a man who looked far too old and rickety to still be alive and walking around on his own. The bell chimed as the door slammed shut behind him, both pairs of eyes flickering round. The boy smiled, a mess of tangled, floppy hair on his head and a smile that was somewhat dopey, his eyes too wide making Murphy think he looked vaguely possessed by a very happy demon.

“LOOK!” The boy yelped, rushing towards Murphy, puffs of dust rising from the floorboards beneath his feet. Murphy jerked backwards as a box was thrust into his face. A short wooden stick in it. “It's my wand. Dogwood and unicorn hair. 12 inches. It choose me.”

“Great.” Murphy said dryly. “I'm meant to be buying something.” He said, tilting past the boy to look at the old man.

“Of course, come come.”

“I'm Jasper, that's Ollivander, he's like. A legend.”

“Great.” He repeated. Stepping up to the counter. He peered over it, wishing he was taller, his shoulders barely passing it.

“You after a wand my boy?”

“If that's what you sell.”

“Okay, lets give it a try.” Ollivander disappeared into the back, Murphy tilted, trying to follow him with his faze when he heard crashes. “This might work.” Murphy could heard the boy, Jasper, breathing down his neck as Ollivander reappeared holding out a wand to Murphy. He reached for it quickly, holding tight.

“How does it feel?” Jasper said with a tremulous voice.

“Like a stick.”

“Give it a wave.” Ollivander ordered. Murphy did as he was told. Waving the stick, nothing happened. He raised an eyebrow, looking to Ollivander.

“Amazing.” He said dryly. He heard Jasper snort in his ear.

“Well why don't we try-” The old man kept rattling on as he turned, looking to the shelves behind him, spindly hands dancing across the dusty boxes. Murphy's eyes moved across the counter, hand prints were pressed into the dust on either side. A small rusty lamp sat on one side, wand boxes sat around it, open, leaving the wands out for display.

Some were beautiful, with vines like patterns crawling up the edges, symbols carved into the wood. Others just looked uncomfortable, points jabbing out like thorns. One caught his eye, sitting in a box with a ocean blue cloth. A reddish brown wood, the base was curled, like roots twining together, spinning letting light spill through the gaps before it came together a small lump sat just up from the roots, like a knot in a tree before the wand continued, the end of it bent slightly, curling up then back down giving it a small kink, the end, unlike the others on show wasn't rounded but a sharp point.

His fingers were closing around the cool wood before he even realised he'd reached for it. His arm burst into tingles, like a wave rolling up, through his fingers, into his wrist and following the path to the rest of him. He felt his heart stutter, his breath catch as wind seemed to whip around him, dragging his roguish hair into his eyes. Murphy's pulled his eyes away from the wand, were small multi coloured sparks were spitting out gently and to the room. The lights were flickering, paper from behind the desk whispering in the sudden wind.

“I think we may have found a match.” Ollivander said, his lips twisted into a smile. “May I?” The wind died down, everything returning to normal apart from Murphy's heart, jack rabbiting in his chest leaving him breathless and wide eyed. Murphy gulped, nodded, passed the wand towards the man.

“Ah, beautiful piece.” Ollivander hummed thoughtfully. “Yew and Phoenix feather, can't say I stock very much of either in this shop, you got lucky. 13 inches.” Ollivander tugged at each end, the wand barely bending. “Rigid flexibility, well, I wouldn't say that was a surprise.” He said, a twinkle in his eye as if telling some hilarious joke. “I see Abby out there, are you by any chance John Murphy?”

Murphy nodded.

“Very well, the payments already been settled. Take care of your wand and it will take care of you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Murphy grumbled, Ollivander put the wand back into it's box before passing it to Murphy. Murphy dipped his head once more in thanks before he was rushing out of the store.

“All done?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel about some food? I know some cafe's in muggle London.”

“Muggle?”

“I'll explain on the way.”

*

Murphy couldn't sleep. He looked to the pile of boxes that sat next to his bed, all things he'd need for school. The box on top was thin and long, a wand sat in it, his wand, a smile pulled at his face at the words, at the sight of the boxes still there, proof that it was real.

He'd spent the rest of the day with her, a pile of boxes sat beneath their table as they ate in some small London cafe's that burgers cost more than a weeks shop at Murphy's house. He'd listened as she talked, about muggles, Hogwarts, gringotts, galleons and sickles and knuts. About magical creatures and how she'd bought him a few books to read if he wanted to learn anything about the magical world before school started. Judging by the giant pile of books Murphy was sure it had been closer to a few dozen books than a simple few. She'd wait for his questions and frown when he'd shrug and wave for her to continue on her tirade about the magical world.

Abby had kept asking, wondering why he was so calm, why he wasn't asking as many questions, why, why,why. Murphy didn't know how to answer, wasn't sure how he could say that it was because he was use to it. Not in real life of course, but in a way, he was use to it. Every night he'd go to sleep with a dream of being rescued. A million times, a million different ways he'd imagined his escape from the house. From running away to being recruited as a child spy.

Sometimes it wasn't even an escape, just a cure for the toxic hell he lived in. His father somehow coming home, telling them he was sorry, there was a mistake and then fixing everything, turning his mother back into the woman she use to be, smiling and singing under her breath as she ran her fingers through Murphy's hair. The Cleo who would barely sniff alcohol without looking worriedly in Murphy's direction and not drinking because of the 'bad influence'. Other times he was more realistic, he thought of what he could say, the tone, a way that it would finally get through to her, crack through the burnt out shell and finally reach her, that she'd get help and then she'd be fixed, still chipped but so much better. They'd tuck the past behind them and continue on in a house of laughter. He wished, sometimes, for something terrible to happen to him, for him to be hit by a car, lying dying on an operating table because maybe, just maybe, it would make Cleo change. The fear of loosing him would throw her back to a semblance of a parent.

Some nights he couldn't even manage that, the thoughts of what if's too hard to bare. Making his stomach churn so he'd just think it was okay. It was normal, he could convince himself of it, could pretend that nothing was wrong. All parents did that, that It was normal for a 10 year old to be turning away bailiffs. To step through a mine field of bottles each morning, to wipe away the stains of drugs on the table, that having to fight past strangers to watch the early morning cartoons was normal. On those nights he would end up leaving, sitting in the field of high grass across from school, hidden amongst the chirps of the crickets and the roar of the cars from the road telling himself it was okay, every child ran from time to time, every child had somewhere safe to go when the shouts from the living room got too loud.

So he was calm, uninterested, because he'd tricked himself enough times. After a while the dreams become just that, dreams. That the high only reminded him that soon he would be forced to wake up.

Murphy jolted up as his door was thrown open. A scowl on his face as he looked to the silhouette in the doorway.

“Baby, everyone wants to meet you.”

“mum I don't-”

“Now John.” Cleo snapped, Murphy sighed, sitting up, his eyes flickered once more to the pile of boxes.

_Please be here when I get back_ he thought nervously, before following his mother into the living room. Murphy sneered at the smell of alcohol as he walked into the room. The booming voices of what ever idiots were round tonight quieted as they noticed him shuffling into the room.

“This your boy?” A man asked. Cleo's hand rested on his shoulder, the other pinching his cheek.

“Told you he was a handsome little fella didn't I.” Cleo cooed. Murphy batted her hand away. “Baby why don't you go get mummy a drink, I'll let you stay up.” Murphy moved off to the kitchen. He didn't want to stay up, not that that would matter to them.

Murphy didn't know how long he stayed up, snapping 'be quiets' and 'dont touch that' to drunken visitors, tucking his mother into bed. How many stupid dares he took with the promise of money if he completed it. Money was money, even if he had to see if he could handle sticking 5 thumb tacks into his leg to get it. Finally he'd managed to shoo out everyone he could and the others were left dotted across the floor and furniture. Murphy cleaned around them, placing saucepans in front of each one in case they needed to vomit.

The bottles went in the recycling, gently as to not wake anyone up. He scrubbed a cloth along the filthy table to clear off any mess. Scrambled across the floor with a plastic bag picking up all the torn off labels and cigarette butts to go in the bin.

He left the washing up, he'd do it before his mum clawed her way out of bed, hungover and ready for some hair of the dog. Finally, when the sky had turned a purply blue the sun begging to peak above the clouds Murphy retreated back to his room. A few wrinkle £5 notes shoved into his pocket and a leg that vaguely ached.

He heard a crash as someone apparently woke up in search of a bathroom. Murphy sighed, grabbing the lopsided chair from the corner of the room and hooking it beneath the door handle. He flopped into bed, trying to ignore the smell of alcohol on his clothes from drinks sloshed onto him or the lingering smell of cigarette smoke. His eyes found the pile of boxes, a nostalgic swell of hope slithering into his heart.

_Please be real._ Murphy thought, before his eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep to the clumped of footsteps and fizz of a can being opened.

 


	2. All aboard

Murphy woke up to the sight of the chair beneath the door and the harsh rattling of his doorknob, catching with a clang against the chair.

“Come on man, I need a piss.” A husky voice called through the door.

“Down the hall!” Murphy growled. He listened to the shuffle of footsteps leading away before the bathroom door slammed shut hard enough to make the walls rattle. Murphy shifted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His mind filtering back to the day before. His heart stuttered at the memory of Abby. Impossibly tangible. He let out a slow shaky breath. Telling himself to roll over, to look. Crushing down the hope blooming he shut his eyes tight before spinning round, fast enough to make the bed bounce and creak.

Slowly, he peeled his eyelids open, breath caught in his throat. The blackness disappeared, giving way to the gentle stream of morning light cutting into his room through the broken blind, filtering down onto a long thin box atop a pile of others.

It was real.

Murphy slowly reached forwards, grabbing for the first book on the pile only to halt a breath away from it, his fingers shook, his heart racing in his chest.

“do it.” Murphy snapped, his eyes fell closed again as his fingers twitched, closing the distance. He felt the leather brush against his fingertip, feather light. Eyes snapping open Murphy found himself gaping in disbelief, his fingers trailed slowly up the spine, hand caressing it. The cover was worn, lumpy like the dotted wallpaper on his celling. Murphy lifted it from it's perch, weighing it in his hands for a moment before he flicked it open, fingers trailing down the page as the scent of paper wafted from it.

It. Was. real.

He would be leaving. Free from his life until the holidays. Murphy swallowed the lump rising in his throat and flipped back to the first page. If he was going to enter a new world he couldn't be left behind, he'd have to hold his own and to do that he'd need to know about it. His eyes moved across the words, letting them flow into his brain even as a somewhat hysterical laugh came from his lips, he used a hand to smother it. Murphy flinched as fur brushed his arm, looking down he saw Clawdia, looking up at him, ears flat against his head, eyes imploring. Murphy grinned. Dropping the hand from his mouth to scratch behind her ears.

A shout came from somewhere in the house, the rattle of keys, the fizz and pop as someone opened a new can of beer, cigarette smoke crept beneath the gap under his door. The book was warm in his hand, Clawdia purred, rubbing against his other palm, a paw poking at the book as if telling him not to be distracted.

“I know.” Murphy hummed, ignoring the thump of uneven footsteps. “We're getting out of here.” Murphy promised. A few months, then he was free.

*

Murphy yanked his trunk out of his room with a huff, it slopped over onto the linoleum floor with a click, he could hear the music from the living room, pumping out a song that he didn't recognise. His eyes fell to the door, just at the end of the hall, before he heard a soft sob from the living room. Murphy sighed, slowly looking away from the door, he lent the trunk against the wall, ignored Clawdia meowing as he set her cage down, her paws batting through the wires. Only hearing the whimpers. Murphy pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a breath before he walked in, shoulders squared.

“Mum.” Murphy said gently, moving to the back of the sofa, rubbing softly at her back. He ignored the throb of the bruise on his cheek that he'd been given the night before.

“You hate me.” Cleo sobbed, body racking. “You hate me, I'm a terrible mother.”

“Of course I don't hate you.” Murphy said, climbing over the back of the sofa to slide next to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “You're a great mum.” Murphy lied, ignoring the way the words tasted like bile, made his stomach churn. “You're doing the best you can I know that. I could never hate you. I prom-”

“Yes you do, that's why you're leaving.” Cleo sobbed.

“Mum, I have to go, Abby said-”

“Why does everyone leave me? Your father, you.”

“Dad didn't want to leave. It wasn't his fault.” Murphy said. The words seemed to sober her up, although sober probably wasn't the best term considering the smell of her breath. Murphy cringed as she looked to him, the tears in her eyes still spilling over. He could see the change from crying drunk to angry drunk and readied himself for the blow. Reeling his arm back, tucking it against his chest like a shield.

“No, it was yours.” and there it was.

“I'll see you in a few months.” Murphy said stiffly, standing back up, he went to move past her when her hand gripped his wrist, he grit his teeth as his bones ached beneath the grip.

“Don't come back.” Cleo breathed. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, wouldn't be the last, but still, that never made it sting any less. He swallowed the lump in his throat, blinked away the stinging in his eyes and turned to look down at her. Lips pulled in a sneer.

“Try not to die while I'm gone. There'd be nobody who cared enough to try and find you.” Murphy spat, ripping his arm from her grip. He watched her face fall and felt a brief glow of satisfaction a cheer of 'you hurt me I hurt you' screaming in his mind before he was walking out of the room. Grabbing his trunk and Clawdia's cage and marching from the house.

*

It was a long walk to kings cross, especially lugging his case behind him and trying to sooth Clawdia who hissed and spat at everyone they passed on the street, by the time they arrived Murphy was sweating, his nerves shot as he looked to the clock and sighed in relief when he saw he had a half hour until the train would leave.

Abby had explained to him that he would have to pass through the portal, even took him there once when she'd taken him to gringotts to change the muggle money he'd scrounged up. He'd learnt a lot about the magical world in the past few months. Spent a lot of time in Diagon alley, never talking to anyone, just tucked in the shadows, watching the people walk down the streets, looking in the shops, listening to the conversations about dragons and deathday parties and ministry of magic. So when he spotted a family ducking through the wall it wasn't exactly a shock to him, still strange, made his heart race but he didn't scream and drop Clawdia which he would count as a win.

Murphy ignored the pounding of his heart and marched towards the barrier, crossing through with the brief feeling of a cold wave passing over him before he was standing on the platform. The noise was immense, laugher and cheers echoing from every direction. The last time the platform had been empty, just him and Abby. His eyes skimmed the crowd as if he would recognise someone, unsurprisingly he didn't see anyone he knew.

“Move away from the barrier.” A boy ordered, grabbing Murphy and yanking him out the way with a small laugh, a moment later a large family sprinted through the wall onto the platform. “You trying to become roadkill?”

“I uh-”

“You're a first year right?” The boy asked, looking at him now he realised he couldn't be much older than Murphy, taller thought. He had a soft smile, trustworthy. Murphy gave a nod. “Me too. I'm Wells, nice to meet you. You should go get a seat before there all taken, I'm waiting for a friend. If you put your trunk there it'll be loaded on by the prefects later.” Murphy spotted where the boy was pointing, right at the edge of the platforms a huge pile of trunks sat.

“thanks.” Murphy grumbled, moving over to it. He dropped his trunk next to a dark green one before making his way through the crowd to a door. Clawdia's cage still clutched tight and his backpack over his shoulder. The train was a gleaming royal red. The air seemed to sizzle in energy, everyone happy, bouncing in excitement. Murphy stepped up through the small door. Inside the train was no less packed than the platform, students of all ages stood in the halls, cheering to one another, telling stories about their summers. A boy with soft looking black hair raced past him howling with laughter, Murphy dodged out of the way as what looked like Jasper raced after him with a hearty yell.

Murphy felt his lips twitching into a smile as he looked up and down the halls. Fireworks whizzed through the hall, dancing between peoples heads. A boy sat with a pygmy puff in his hands, a few friends cooing over it. The engine hummed beneath his feet as he dodged through the people to find an empty carriage. Listening to the snippets of conversation from both outside and inside the train. He found an empty compartment not too far down and quickly slid into it. Closing the door dulling out the roar of noise. Murphy quickly let Clawdia out from her cage, watching her leap out, prance across the seats, butt pointing at him to show her distaste at being hauled across London in a cage.

The noise grew again as the door was slid open. Murphy turned to see a boy, again about his age slink into the compartment letting the door shut behind him. Murphy watched as the boy eyed Clawdia warily before moving to sit next to her. His dark brown eyes met Murphy's once he'd flopped, legs stretching out in front of him, almost kicking Murphy as he did. Slowly the boy nodded his head in greeting.

“You like exploding snap?”

“Never played it.” Murphy said honestly.

“Want to?”

“Okay.” Murphy said tentatively, the boy's lips curled in a smile, his hand dipping into his pocket and pulling out the pack.

“Know the rules?”

“It's snap.” Murphy said in a 'duh bitch' tone. The boy laid out the cards, only the second go in cards exploded, puffs of smoke going up from the smouldering cards. Murphy jumped at the bang making the boy laugh. Murphy heard the rumble of voices out side, could hear a small girl saying goodbye to her brother in a teary voice. See a proud parent straightening their child's clothes out of the corner of his eye. A firework blasted outside the compartment door, showering the small space in a shower of multicoloured lights that glinted in the boys eyes as he looked to Murphy with an amused smile over the still rising streams of smoke.

“I'm Miller.”

“Murphy.” Murphy replied. The horn hooted, signalling the time to leave. A last minute rush had people climbing onto the train from the platform. The Hogwarts express rocked gently as it started, the clack clack clack of it moving over the train tracks drowned out the last few voice as people dived though the still open doors. A girl with smooth brown hair sprinted down the platform next to the train shouting 'bye bell'.

“Welcome to the wizarding world Murphy.” Murphy's eyes slid back to Miller, raising an eyebrow, the question on the tip of his tongue. “Every kid who grew up in the wizarding world has played exploding snap. You're gunna love it here.” Miller said with a earnest grin. Clawdia flopped her head against his leg, butting him with a soft purr. Mller eyed the cat before stroking her with one finger, scratching behind her ear.

“I think I am.” Murphy said, the sound of laughter seeping through the walls.

A few moments later the door opened to reveal a girl with wavy blonde hair and cool blue eyes.

“Miller, there you are. We've been looking for you everywhere.” The girl sighed, walking in and sitting next to Murphy, the boy from earlier, Wells, followed her in. Sitting next to Miller.

“You found me.” Miller said. “This is Murphy, Murphy, this is Clarke and Wells.” The two new arrivals greeted him before they fell into conversation, the cards lay useless between them, Murphy slowly picked through his. Ignoring the conversation that flowed around him. If there was one thing he was good at it was becoming part of the background. Clawdia left her perch on Miller's leg and jumped over to Murphy. Murphy grinned as she clawed her way up to his shoulders, wrapping around his neck like a scarf, tail tickling his chin. He bought a hand up, stroking her flank, eyes moving to watch the countryside rush past.

“What about you Murphy?”

“What?” Murphy asked, head snapping back to the three. All eyes on him.

“What house do you want to be?” Clarke asked.

“Uh-”

“At the beginning of Hogwarts you get sorted into-” Wells started.

“I know what you mean.” Murphy snapped. “Haven't given it much thought.” Murphy said truthfully.

“Well then you're not a Ravenclaw.” Miller said with a small laugh. Murphy thought back on what he'd learnt about ravenclaws and shrugged, it didn't really seem like him. He didn't have any extraordinary thirst for knowledge, he wasn't particularly creative, unless you counted the ways he managed to screw with people at his old school and he really didn't want to have to answer a riddle to get into his common room. Knowing his luck he'd be stuck outside. “and judging by the snapping you're not exactly going to be a Hufflepuff.”

“Yellows not my colour anyway.” Murphy mumbled.

“I thought everyone knew what house they wanted to be.” Clarke said thoughtfully.

“Well I guess I'm special.”

“It's different for people from non magic backgrounds Clarke.” Miller said calmly. “They haven't had their whole lives having their parents tell them about Hogwarts, the houses, betting over which house they'd be in.”

“You were bought up in a muggle household?” Wells asked. Murphy frowned and gave a small nod. “Cool. Do you have a car? we don't usually use cars. Can you drive?”

“I'm 11.” Murphy said, lips twitching. “I got to drive a car once though, just around a car park.” More he turned the wheel while sitting on his fathers lap.

“What was it like, finding out about having magic? How did your parents take it? Or did they know just raise you away from the wizarding world.”

“No there both, were both..muggles.” Murphy said slowly, the phrase still foreign to him. “It was, cool? This woman, Abby, came and told me. Got me some books so I did some reading-”

“Or maybe he is Ravenclaw worthy.” Miller mused.

“And now I'm here. I guess I'm just..going with it.” Murphy finished lamely. Uncomfortable with Wells and Clarke's bright eyed look, like they'd just struck a treasure trove of information.

“Wait till you see everything. You won't be so calm then.” Clarke said with a small smile. “I remember when my dad first took me to muggle London, it was amazing. I can't imagine what it'll be like the other way round.”

“where have you been so far? Diagon alley right, have you took the night bus? Seen the shrieking shack, do you know about quidditch?”

“Oh you have to see a quidditch match.” Clarke urged

“You're making me feeling like a tourist.” Murphy said awkwardly. He remembered when his aunt had come to visit, the way Alex and Cleo had gushed over her, trying to find the best spots In London to visit, restaurant's that she just had to try.

“Sorry.” Wells said instantly. “It's just cool. We grew up in this world, we don't remember what it was like seeing this stuff for the first time, getting to see someone's reaction to all of it when they first see it...it's just..really cool. We didn't mean to make you feel..” Wells tapered off awkwardly.

“So. Exploding snap everybody?” Miller asked, dealing the cards again. Murphy snorted, taking his pile and feeling a smile creep onto his face.

The game didn't seem to last too long and did more to startle Clawdia than anything else but Murphy felt warmth creeping into his stomach at every laugh that echoed through their compartment.

“Have you ever played wizard chess?”

“No.”

“Oh. We have to play.” Wells said excitedly, pulling a board out of his backpack.

“You carry a chess board in your bag?”

“The train rides like 8 hours. Of course I bought chess.”

“What? It's...What time will we get there?”

“Around dinner.” Clarke said.

“Oh.” Murphy said dumbly, thinking of the apple he'd got for a snack, he was suddenly all too happy that he'd walked past a market and slipped it into his pocket. As if on cue his stomach rumbled.

“The trolley'll come round soon.” Miller said.

“Move.” Wells ordered, waving Miller out of his seat. Miller sighed, standing up and quickly switching seats with Murphy. “Right so this is a chess board, this piece is-”

“I've played chess before.” Murphy said quickly. “My granddad taught me a bit.” Murphy said, scratching his nose as he eyed the pieces. It had been over a year since he played, he remember the last game, boxing day, he could hear his mother laughing from the other room, the clink of glasses, the harsh sounds of swearing that made his granddad's face twist in distaste as he turned the music in the room up louder to drown it out. He hadn't come back after that visit, the doctors had said it had been cancer, gone unnoticed for too long.

“Alright, so you know what everything's called?”

“Um. Yeah?”

“Okay. Do you want to go first?” Murphy nodded at Wells words, trying to remember his granddads rules. Once your fingers have left the piece you can't take the move back, horses move in an L shape, it's okay to loose a few pawns, but don't underestimate them. Murphy chewed his lip, eyes flickering across the board. He remembered his granddad, the crunch of dry crackers, crumbs falling down onto the board as he told him his secret moves. Murphy had never seen the point in it, the game, if it went right, would be over so fast. Murphy liked the game, he liked locking himself in the bedroom with his granddad and sitting for hours, stewing over the board trying to figure out how he could win.

“Go easy on him Wells. He already looks confused.” Miller joked and Murphy scowled.

Fuck the game he was going to win. Murphy reached forwards for a piece.

“no.” Wells said. “Just say it.”

“What?”

“Say what and where you want to move.”

“Pawn to...E4.” Murphy tried, slowly the piece crept forwards on it's own making Murphy laugh. “That's amazing!” Murphy breathed, eyeing the small pieces in awe. He could feel the others looking at him, all smiling as if watching Murphy react was the most interesting thing they'd ever seen. Wells slowly turned back to the board, his eyes skimming through the possibilities.

“Give him one Wells.” Miller fake whispered. “Don't make him suffer.” Wells rolled his eyes.

“Pawn to F5.” He said, Murphy tried not to roll his eyes at the move.

“I don't need you to try and loose.” Murphy said stiffly, quickly moving his pawn to take Wells's. Instead of the usual taking the piece off the board his pawn moved, shifting and pulling out two small swords. Murphy watched transfixed as the pawn stabbed Wells pawn sending small sprinklings of dust and stone across the board.

“Sorry, I'll play seriously now. Pawn to G5, It's just I'm quite good.” Wells said proudly. “Wanted to give you a chance..”

“Queen to H5. That's very nice of you.” Murphy said, watching the queen creep along to it's new square. “But I don't think I need it. Check mate.”

“Check mate is when the king can't get out of-” Clarke said, breaking off as she saw the board. Wells sat silently, gaping like a fish.

“You're right, you are really good. I usually beat people in two moves.” Murphy lied.

“That was... that was amazing.” Wells said earnestly as Murphy smirked proudly.

“Whatever happens, I'm on Murphy's team.” Miller said.

“Team for what?” Clarke asked bemused.

“Anything. Just thought I'd call it now. He's a genius.” Murphy felt his cheeks heat in a blush, he quickly cleared his throat.

“Just had a good teacher.” He mumbled.

They fell into conversation again after that, Clarke and Wells seemed to be leading it. Miller cutting in occasionally with snappy remarks and truly awful jokes. Murphy listened happily, watching the three trade jokes, tell stories about the magical world. Their first quidditch world cup, first broom ride.

Things Murphy would one day get to experience himself. He ate his apple before the trolley had arrived. An old woman pushing it with a kind smile and warm eyes.

“Anything from the trolley dears?”

“Yes please, one second.” Wells said, turning to Murphy. “what have you tried?”

“What?” Murphy grunted, spinning the apple core in his fingers.

“Magical sweets, what have you tried?”

“Uh..I had a blood pop but I threw it away, It was gross.”

“Why would you get blood pop?” Wells asked, sneering in disgust.

“Curiosity” Murphy lied, it had been the cheapest thing for sale and he'd found a dropped sickle on the streets of Diagon alley.

“Chocolate frogs?”

“No.”

“Liquorish wands?”

“No.”

“Bertie botts?”

“I've only tried blood pops.” Murphy said.

“Alright, can I get one of everything and then a chocolate frog and some sugar mice. Please?” Wells asked, digging into his bag to find money.

“Pumpkin pasty please.” Clarke said. “Miller do you want?”

“I'll eat whatever he doesn't like.” Miller said nodding to Murphy who sat dumbfounded as Wells took the giant pile of sweets from the woman and placed them on the seat between them.

“Dig in.”

“I can't afford-”

“My treat. I can't wait to see you eat bertie botts.” Wells said with a bright laugh.

“Uh. Thanks.” Murphy said slowly.

“Try a fizzing whizbee first.” Miller ordered. The other two nodded eagerly. Clarke thrusting the packet at him a moment later. Murphy eyed them nervously as he popped one of the sweets in his mouth. For a moment, he felt it was just like pop rocks, the candy fizzing and popping in his mouth. Then it got stronger, making his eyes water. He clamped a hand over his mouth to keep him from spitting it out while he tried to laugh around the mass of tickling in his mouth. The others were watching him, laughing good naturedly. Then, slowly, he begun to rise up. Slightly off his seat, levitating a few inches above it. Murphy's arms wind milled. A string of cursed flying from his mouth. A few moments later he was falling back into his seat. Clawdia hissing and clawing at his shoulders.

“What the-” Murphy breathed, his mouth still tingling.

“I know right.” Miller said, popping one into his own mouth and slowly lifting from the seat.

“Now this.” Clarke urged. The next half hour was spent with Murphy digging into the sweets. Miller had taken the liquorice wands off of him after Murphy had decided he did truly hate liquorice.

The chocolate frog was brilliant, although, slightly strange to be eating something that hopped around and wiggled when you went to bite it. The three had assured him it was only a charm and the chocolate didn't feel any pain. Which, was just, very peculiarly being told that.

They'd left the bertie botts for last and soon begun to take turns choosing one for another person to eat. Clarke had given Murphy a muddy brown coloured one that tasted like Clawdia's cat food. Miller had wondered how exactly he knew it tasted like cat food at which point Murphy had explained a few of the dares he use to do. Making it sound more like a fun game than him trying to earn money of the drunks that were bought to his house.

The train ride seemed to fly by and before long the sun was setting on the horizon.

“We should change. We'll be there soon.” Wells said. “you have your robes right?” Murphy nodded to his bag, still sat on the seat now covered in wrappers.

The four of them changed quickly, Murphy tugging at the arms of his robes with a fond smile. He knew most children hated uniforms but Murphy had always quite liked them. As he and his mother had fallen further down the financial hierarchy he stood out in school on non uniform days, with his ripped trousers and baggy t shirts with holes around the neck and red wine stains dotted across them. His uniforms had always been his, a way to hide amongst the crowd, to keep the vast differences his family had compared to the other children hidden. It did the same now, as he caught a glance of the four of them in the window, the dark sky outside doing a perfect job to keep the reflection visible.

They looked the same. All just kids going to school, gone were the nice neat clothes that upper class wizardry bought them, smears of chocolate sat on their lips, Clarke's neat hair had frazzled during the bertie botts game from constantly running her hands through it while trying to force herself to eat the disgusting sweets. The only thing that showed Murphy might not be from this world was bruise standing dark against his pale skin.

“Stay with us.” Miller said, leading Murphy off of the train with a hand on his back forcing Murphy to walk in the middle of the group. It seemed almost everyone was going the opposite direction to them, the four first years being jostled around as they tried to follow a drowning voice calling for first years above the noise.

Finally they managed to break out of the stream of students, ending at the back of a small huddle of 11 year olds standing around a man with a bushy beard and tattoo's speckled across his skin.

Miller's hand finally dropped from Murphy's back once he realised they weren't about to be pulled away by the students rushing out of the station.

“Miller!”

“Bellamy?” Miller asked. Murphy watched as a boy walked over to them, Jasper and another boy trailing after him. “Where were you? I was beginning to think you missed the train.”

“I found Jasper stuck in the toilet and Monty trying to pick the lock to get them out on my way to find you. Figured I should stick with them to make sure one didn't accidentally fall out a window or something.” Bellamy said, grinning at the other boys.

“You're from ollivanders.” Jasper said, jabbing a finger infront of Murphy's face.

“Yes.”

“Joe right?” Jasper asked.

“John. Murphy. I.. i'm Murphy. You're the dogwood kid.”

“You remember my wand?” Jasped squealed, face lighting up with excitement. “What did you think of it?”

“It was very..wandy.” Murphy tried, which seemed to do the trick as Jasper's grin was somehow growing.

“Thank you” Jasper blurted. “He has a really cool wand.” Jasper exclaimed, apparently to literally anyone within shouting distance.

“Well. That's good to know.” The man said with a snort, leaning over Jasper. “If you lot are done we'd like to be on our way. I'm Nyko. I'll be taking you to the castle. Come on.”

The gaggle of first years followed, Nyko walking with large, quick steps that left the first years jogging to keep up. Rather than anything Murphy expected they stopped at a small dock, a small fleet of boats bobbing gentle in pitch black water.

“In you get, four to a boat.”

“I don't see any life jackets.” A girl with mousy brown hair said. “I can't swim.”

“Don't worry, if you fall out the giant squid'll throw you back in the boat.” Nyko said, Murphy didn't think he realised just how comforting the thought of a giant squid beneath them was.

“Alright, you two get in there. Monty, hold on to Jasper, no need for him to get acquainted with the giant squid just yet.”

“Where are you going to go?” Monty asked.

“With them.” Bellamy said, jutting his finger towards Miller.

“He said four to a-” Clarke started.

“I doubt one extra will matter.” Bellamy said, lips twisting in a smirk.

“It's against the rules.” Wells said stiffly.

“What's wrong with breaking a few rules?” Clarke and Wells got into the boat. Wells hanging over the front, fingers dipping into the cool water. Clarke just behind him. Miller got in next, sitting on the little bench next to Clarke. Bellamy nodded for Murphy to get in next and so he did, eyeing the few boats already beginning to slowly move out into the water, the last of the people on the docks jumping in and taking off. The boat rocked beneath Murphy's feet as he stepped in, he lowered himself slowly, hands gripping either side of the boat. When he was finally seated Bellamy hopped in, seemingly ignoring the fact the boat had already begun to slowly move.

Murphy had a moment to imagine the boat suddenly plunging beneath the water before Bellamy sat down, practically on Murphy's lap. The boat teetered once before it continued on it's journey.

“Lucky that worked. I thought it might go under for a moment.” Bellamy said, nudging Miller in the ribs with a laugh.

“Better not, I'm not a fan of seafood.” Miller mumbled. “You know Murphy. I can't decide what I want to do more, watch the view for myself or watch you while you see it.”

“Why would you want to watch him?” Bellamy asked, shifting, his leg pinching the skin on Murphy's thigh, Murphy huffed, yanking his leg out the way making the boat sway dangerously, a splash of water tipping in.

“Murphy if you tip this boat over you will be swimming me to shore.” Miller said. “He grew up in the muggle world.”

“Really?” Bellamy asked curiously, turning to look at Murphy. Murphy finally took stock of what he looked like, curly black hair, olive skin and a somewhat teasing smile. The small torch hanging from the front of the boat glinted against his warm brown eyes making them sparkle. “Me too.”

“Liar.” Wells coughed.

“I did!” Bellamy said. “Sort of. My mum was a muggle, so she raised me and my sister in the muggle world, but she knew bits about it from my dad as well, so she'd let Miller's dad take me and my sister to Diagon Alley, or hogsemeade.”

“Apparently both my parents were muggles.” Murphy said, “never knew anything about it till a few months ago when some woman named Abby turned up on my doorstep with a letter.”

“I bet your parents freaked.” Bellamy said with a grin.

“Mum didn't really care.” Murphy mumbled, dipping his fingers into the dark water.

“So, how'd O handle you leaving?” Miller asked.

“She'll be fine, I'll be back at Christmas.” Bellamy said.

“O?” Murphy inquired.

“My sister, she'll be coming next year.”

“Bellamy.” Miller said, a slight sigh to his voice.

“Don't start.” Bellamy snapped. His warm eyes turning dark, sparking with rage.

“Look man I just..You don't know alright, Both her parents were muggle, there's a pretty big chance she won't actually have any magic.”

“Miller-”

“Hopefully she does. I'm just saying you should prepare yourself for the possibility of her not coming here next year.”

“So, Jasper said you have a cool wand.” Bellamy snapped towards Murphy, a painfully blatant subject change.

“bell-”

“What's it like.” It seemed less like a question and more an order for Murphy to tell him.

“Wooden.”

“What wood genius.” Bellamy grumbled.

“Oh uh Yew, dragon heartstring. 13 inches. It's..it's pretty cool looking.”

“Yew wands are good, can be very powerful, same with dragon heartstring.” Wells called from the front of the boat.

“Mines cypress wood.” Bellamy said proudly, as if that meant something to Murphy.

“Shut up.” Clarke ordered. “We're coming up to it.” A pale hand pointed out to the distance.

“Up to what?” Murphy asked, trying to peer past the dark line of trees and slopping hills.

“Just watch.” Wells said and so Murphy did, eyes flickering across the skyline. He saw the peek of a turret before the rest of the building slid out from behind the horizon.

It was dark, shadows creeping over it where the lights from the windows and flickering orange glow from torches didn't reach. Murphy had always thought castles at night would look scary. That they'd loom and grow like an endless wasteland, only cold stone in sight. But somehow it didn't, it took his breath away as he looked at the rise of grand towers and sloped roofs. It looked..welcoming, like the building was drawing you in.

He could hear the stunned exclamations of people in the boats around him. Felt the boat jostle as Bellamy leaned forward, punching Miller in the arm, the two boys smiling at each other. Murphy's heart swelled as his eyes ran over the dreamlike castle.

“Would anyone blame me if I shed a tear?” A voice called.

“Cry it out Jasper.” Bellamy shouted back. If there had been any doubt in Murphy' s mind about this all being some elaborate hoax it was gone now. With the chill night air leaving a red blush on his cheeks, the castle only growing as they drew closer. The boat rocked as Miller flicked some water back at Bellamy. The pain in Murphy's cheek was forgotten.

It was undeniably real.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments would really really be appreciated :)  
> Hop you liked the chapter, i'll update soon x


	3. Welcome to Hogwarts

When Murphy was 9 his granddad took him to Paris. He'd turned up one night, packed Murphy's bag and drove him off. At first Murphy had hoped that he'd decided to take him away, that they were going back to the small cottage in Surrey, but then they were driving too far south. Far away from London, all the way to the channel tunnel. They'd hopped on the Eurostar and went to Calais. Murphy had fallen asleep before they got there and woke up in a small hotel in Paris, the Eiffel tower visible through the window.

He'd eaten croissants for breakfast overlooking the city with wide eyes. They'd went to the aquarium, walking over the shark tank on a thin bridge, Murphy peering down at the peeping fins with a bright grin. Lunch was spent at a park, watching the hustle and bustle of the city, tourist snapping photo's and the locals rushing through on their way to work.

The afternoon was spent walking up the Eiffel tower. The lift hadn't been working but they had both insisted that they wanted to get to the top. It had seemed to Murphy that the stairs were never ending, he'd started at a run, but ended up stomping up them panting harshly, praying that they would soon reach the top. They'd watched the sun setting across the Paris skyline trying to even their breathing. The tower seemed to sway gently in the breeze, Murphy's hair wiping around his face as he looked over the orange sky with a wild grin.

His granddad had sat him down at one of the small benches and told him in a steady voice that he was dying. Murphy had nodded, twisting his hands in his top.

“When?”

“Soon. The doctor says a few months.” They'd watched the sun finish setting, he'd listened as his Granddad talked about the day like nothing was wrong, talking of the fish they saw and pointing out landmarks from the top of the tower. Time had seemed to stop, the deceleration had been blown away by the wind and they were just them. A kid and his grandfather enjoying the beauty Paris had to offer. On that platform, watching the world wheel by beneath them they safe, untouched by time.

The walk down the stairs had somehow seemed longer than the walk up. Each step echoing beneath Murphy's foot, the sound of time starting again, of ticking away mercilessly as they returned to the world. Murphy had counted the steps as if they were the days his granddad had left. It had, without a doubt, been the longest staircase Murphy had ever had to travel up.

Until Hogwarts.

“I'm going to throw up.” Murphy groaned, clutching his ribs as he looked up at the looming castle. Still miles away.

“It's just stairs.” Nyko said, looking disapprovingly at the group of gasping first years. “It's not that far.” Murphy looked back to the boat house and almost screamed when he saw they were only just past half way.

“It's torture.” Jasper cried, spread out across the closest landing, panting into the cool stone.

“Get a move on.” Nyko ordered. Murphy sucked in a gasp of air and forced himself to follow Nyko up the next flight of stairs, the air was cool, biting at his burning cheeks. He heard the half-hearted thud of footsteps following.

“We don't have to come down here again do we?” Murphy asked looking to Miller who was thumping up the stairs with a determined expression.

“Bloody well hope not.” Miller grunted. “You know the other students get a carriage to the door. I'm all for seeing the castle from the lake. I mean, great view.” Murphy hummed in agreement, looking up at the dark castle again with a small smile. “But, couldn't they get us a bit closer to the castle.”

“I know. we only have little legs.” Monty added appearing on Murphy's other side, basically carrying Jasper. “You'd think they'd make the older kids do the walking. I mean, Jasper still takes naps and they expect us to climb Everest.” Murphy snorted at Monty's words.

“Kids are meant to have more energy.” Nyko said. “You don't see those two complaining.” Murphy looked up to where Nyko was pointing. Clarke's blond hair glowing in the dark night Bellamy next to her, the two tearing up the seemingly endless wave of steps.

“Can we take a break?” A girl called.

“Tell you what. I'll give the first person to the top 10 galleons and a tour around the forbidden forest.” Now, Murphy wasn't entirely sure what exactly the forbidden forest was, but he was very sure that galleons were money. He shoved Miller behind him, leaping past Nyko and scrambling up the steps ignoring the stitch clawing at his side. Nyko laughed from behind him as Murphy forced himself to move faster. Taking the steps two at a time and if he happened to trip Clarke and Bellamy as he went through them, well, alls fair.

Murphy collapsed onto the cool ground once he reached the top of the stairs, waiting for everyone else to arrive. Nyko met him with a handful of shiny gold coins.

“You moved up there faster than a someone with a blast ended screwt on their tail. “Alright everyone, catch your breath then lets get moving.”

“THERES MORE?!” Jasper shrieked.

“Just one more flight of stairs.” Nyko promised.

When they finally made it into the castle Murphy's eyes couldn't stop, his head snapping this way and that looking at the grand archways and stone beams. Murphy's head snapped to the side when he noticed a woman standing at the top of a small staircase. Her mousey hair familiar.

“Professor.” Nyko greeted.

“I've been here ten minutes.” Abby scowled.

“Kids needed some incentive to get up the stairs.” Nyko snorted. “They're all yours.” He swept past her, disappearing behind a giant door leaving Abby's eyes sweeping across the gaggle of students.

He tried to listen dutifully to her speech but kept finding his eyes wandering the grand entrance they stood in. running over the hard wood doors and the beautiful stone. He heard words like 'Sorting, your family and house points and before he knew it he was being nudged forwards by Bellamy as Abby turned around and the doors swung open. The group trailed after her.

Murphy walked into the hall, eyes bulging as he looked at the four long tables, all almost full with students who's eyes bore into the group. Whisper ran through the hall, kids nudging each other and pointing at the first years. Murphy looked over as Miller nudged his side. Miller grinned before tilting his chin to the celling, Murphy frowned, tipping his head back to look up and felt his mouth drop open.

“Woah.” The hall seemed to give way to the night sky, stars blinking in the distance, a bright moon shining down on them.

“I've gotta admit. Wizards know how to decorate.” Bellamy said with a gentle whistle. They came to a stop at the front of the hall, facing a fifth table, stretched across the front of the room. A stern looking man stood by a rickety stool, an old hat draped over it.

“Bellamy Blake.” Abby said, eyes sweeping across the group. Murphy watched as Bellamy straightened out, puffing up his chest as he swaggered to the sorting hat. He sat down with a thump, eyes running across the small crowd of first years. Miller cheered from next to Murphy making Bellamy's lips tip in a smile. Abby placed the hat on top of Bellamy's head.

“GRYFFINDOR!” Abby lifted the hat back up as the hall erupted in cheers. Bellamy stood up with a blinding grin, he moved through them to get to a table, patting Miller on the back with a small 'good luck' before he joined the end of the griffin table.

Abby called a new name. A flow of students went up to the hat, got sorted and then disappeared to their new table, the crowd slowly thinning out.

“Monty Green.” Monty jumped, walking nervously up to the table. He sat down, teetering on the edge of the seat as the hat was placed on his head. Murphy waited for the call but it didn't come. Murphy watched curiously, as Monty's face flushed a bright red, a sheepish grin forming on his face. He bobbed his head from side to side, as if weighing something up. After a moment the hat opened it's mouth.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Clarke was next. She walked up with her head held high. Abby smiled gently at her as she put the hat on her head.

“Slytherin.” People cheered, although Murphy couldn't help but notice the cheers were less than before. Only half of the people on the other tables seemed to see it fit to cheer. The Slytherin table didn't seem dissuaded,roaring in enthusiasm, whistles and great booming yells of congratulations. Abby pressed a swift kiss to Clarke's cheek making the girl flush before she let Clarke rush away to the table.

“Abby's Clarke's mum.” Miller muttered, apparently noting Murphy's look of confusion.

The sorting continued. It wasn't long before Wells was being called and placed into Hufflepuff. Jasper went to griffin. Miller to Slytherin. Then finally it was his turn.

“John Murphy.”Abby called, her face softening as she spotted him. Murphy gulped, squaring his shoulders as he moved slowly towards the stool. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. His hands were curled beneath the sleeves of his robes, shaking slightly. The chair wobbled as he sat down, one leg slightly shorter than the other two. Murphy felt the hat slowly be sat on his head, for some reason, he expected it to be heavier than it was.

“Interesting?” Murphy jumped as the hats voice seemed to echo around his head, unheard to those in the hall. Murphy gripped the edge of the stool until his fingers were tingling. “It is rare for a muggle born to be such a good fit but as your house would say do what is necessary.”

“Slytherin!” The hat boomed for all to hear. Murphy's eyes fell to the Slytherin table, all cheering eagerly. Abby's hand pressed on his shoulder for a moment, a quick squeeze before she was taking the hat away and shooing Murphy towards the table.

Murphy walked with shaky legs, eyes running up the table of curious face. He was clapped on the back by an older boy with a prefect badge stuck to his chest.

“When can we eat? I'm starving.” Miller asked the prefect.”

“You ate your weight in sweets how are you hungry?”

“Just a few more minutes now, the rest of the firsties need to be sorted then we get to chow down.” The prefect said, clapping Murphy on the shoulder and shoving him into a seat on the bench.

True to his word it was only a few more minutes, the three watched as the remaining students got the hat placed on their heads and ran off to join their tables before the headmaster stood up and gave a small speech, he sat down with a clap and food appeared across the tables, popping into existence and covering the long surfaces. He could feel the way his eyes were as wide as saucers. The hall erupted in chatter and the metallic scrape of cutlery against plates as people begun tucking in to the food. The scent of the dishes wafted around the hall leaving Murphy's mouth watering.

“Eat.” Miller ordered, nudging him gently.

“I don't..” Murphy breathed. Trying to figure out where to start. He could barely remember the last time he'd eaten a meal that wasn't out of a plastic tub and cooked by a few minutes in the microwave. “What's good?” He asked after a moment.

“Everything.” The prefect groaned through a mouthful of chicken. Clarke rolled her eyes, picking through her food carefully with a knife and fork. Murphy settled on the chicken, grabbing a leg off the large platter and tearing into it, he moaned loudly at the taste. Eating like a starving man after that, grabbing bits of everything and squirrelling food into his cheeks like a hamster. Miller wasn't doing much better etiquette wise, Clarke abandoned her knife and fork and was sucking on ribs, sauce smeared across her lips.

When Murphy felt he was about to pop the food was vanishing, replaced with steaming dishes of deserts, apples pie, gooey sticky toffee pudding, towers of ice cream, crumbles sprinkled with sugar and oozing red from the berries packed beneath the surface. Murphy ignored the protest of his swelling stomach and devoured a good two bowls of mint chocolate ice cream.

The only thing there that wasn't appetizing were the jugs of pumpkin juice that everyone else seemed to drink with ease, with that and the few bites of a pumpkin pasty he'd had on the train Murphy was under the strict belief that pumpkins should only be used for carving.

“I'm so full.” Clarke moaned when the deserts finally disappeared. Murphy would have agreed if he weren't worried that opening his mouth would lead to him vomiting the copious amounts of food he'd consumed.

“I think I'm going into a food coma.” Miller said happily, head pillowed in his arms.

*

Murphy looked around his new room. He could hear one of the other boys snoring. Miller was tucked into the next bed, wrapped like a burrito in the thick quilt, a single hole in it where just his nose and mouth were visible. With a sigh Murphy shuffled further down his bed, closing his eyes. He heard the shuffle of bed sheets and his eyes flew open again, he tensed up, peering around the room. A kid turned in their bed, letting out a loud snore. Murphy groaned, flopping his head back against the soft pillow. He looked to the door again, chewing on his lower lip.

After the feast they'd been lead to the Slytherin common room and shown their new homes. Murphy's dorm had four other boys. Something he was far from use to. The bed was soft, plush, his eyes itched with sleep and yet he couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. He felt too on edge, lying tense in the bed, every noise leaving him sitting up and looking around for danger.

Sleepovers had never really been something he did. If he'd go see Mbege and the others boys from the estate he'd always go back home to sleep, the chair pressed beneath the door handle keeping him alone and safe. His room was his, the one place his mother wasn't allowed into, not any more. He and Clawdia could go in there. He was pretty sure Mbege hadn't even stepped foot into his room in the past year. Going from that, from solitude and safety to trying to sleep in a room with four other people, with a door that the entirety of Slytherin house could come through If they wanted wasn't something he'd expected.

With a huff he gave up and crawled out of the bed, quickly leaving the room, feet padding gently against the floor. Murphy made his way to the common room. It was dark, embers flickering in the fireplace. Murphy shuffled over, flopping down onto the leather sofa. He could hear the water lapping against the windows. Murphy looked out at the lake, the water almost green.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring out the large windows, occasionally catching glimpses of something swimming quickly through the water, his felt itchy where he was so tired, and dry from staring too long. A yawn pulled itself from his chest.

Murphy shifted on the sofa, the leather creaking. His eyes ran across the celling, watching with a sigh. He heard the patter of footsteps on the stairs and grimaced. Murphy sat up, eyes glued to the stairs to the dormitory's, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw it was someone he actually knew. Miller appeared in the doorway, looking sleepy and soft.

“I know it's all very exciting.” Miller said, scratching his stomach and blinking as if he were having trouble focusing on Murphy. “But you should get some sleep. Classes start tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Murphy said, in a tone that quite clearly said what he thought of the idea.

“What's wrong?”

“I don't..” Murphy broke off, waving a hand in a gesture that did nothing to clear up the lacklustre sentence.

“You have nightmares?” Miller asked curiously, slipping further into the common room. “There's a potion you can get from the infirmary that will help. Or if it's snoring I can put a charm around your bed that would make it so none of us could hear you, same for the nightmares, if there's..screaming or-”

“I don't have nightmares.” Murphy said stiffly.

“Then what is it?”

“I just, I usually keep a chair under the door handle.”

“What?” Miller asked, a small smile lilting his lips. “You keeping the monsters out?” He joked. Murphy scowled. “Look, everyone has there sleeping habits. No one'll care if you put a chair in front of the door.”

“It's not...It doesn't work if it's not just me in the room.” Murphy grumbled bitterly. “It's pointless then, someone else can move it. I'm not-” Murphy broke off. The unsaid 'safe' leaving a bitter tang in his mouth.

“So you're just not going to sleep?”

“I'll figure it out tomorrow. Maybe I can get a separate room.”

“That's not going to happen.” Miller said bluntly. “Why do you need the chair?”

“I just do.”

“Maybe if I knew why, I could help. So, is it keeping monsters out?”

“In a way.” Murphy said tensely, drumming his fingers against the leather. “A few years ago. My mum had friends over, they were drunk. I woke up when they came into my room. They uh..They took me out of bed, three of them, just picked me up, holding my arms and legs and marched me out into the snow. There's a little pond on the estate. They thought it would be funny if I took a swim.” He could still feel the panic as he was yanked from his bed, could hear his mother giggling as he screamed and thrashed in their arms as they carried him outside. Feel the way his heart had seemingly stopped for a moment as he was tossed out and fell into the water with a crack of thin ice. The freezing water engulfing him beneath it's dark depths.

“They threw you in?” Miller asked with a frown.

“Right in.” Murphy said with a small nod. “It's stupid, I know they weren't trying to hurt me or anything. They were just drunk and thought it'd be funny. Mum knows I love water so she probably thought-” Murphy broke off. He didn't have any idea what they thought, apart from the fact that scaring the crap out of him and doing their best to give him hypothermia would keep them entertained for a few minutes. “It doesn't matter. Give it a few days, I'll be tired enough I'll sleep anywhere.”

“I can promise you none of us are gunna throw you in the lake. It's way too far to walk.” Miller said sincerely. Murphy snorted.“You just don't want people to be able to touch you right?” Murphy nodded. “Alright come on.” Miller said, marching back towards the dormitory. Murphy rolled his eyes, padding after him, he could always not sleep on his bed rather than on the sofa. “get in bed.” Miller ordered. Murphy raised an eyebrow but crawled onto the bed, slowly, as to not disturb Clawdia, curled on the end watching him curiously. Miller grabbed his wand from the draw beside his bed.

“What are you doing?” Murphy asked nervously as Miller raised his wand.

“My dads an auror. Been teaching me defensive spells since I could talk. Don't worry.” Murphy watched dubiously as Miller begun muttering a spell, twisting his wand brown wrinkled in concentration. He walked around the bed slowly, preforming the spell at each opening before he lowered his wand a grin on his face. “Now watch.” Miller said happily, he lifted a hand, moving it towards the bed. Only before it could reach past the gap for the curtains it hit an invisible barrier and bounced away. “No one can get in.” Miller said, pressing his hand against the barrier again only for it to be flung back. He smiled impishly. “It's a fairly advanced spell. No one is going to know how to stop it.”

“Apart from you?” Murphy guessed. Miller grunted in agreement.

“You reckon you can sleep now?”

“How do I know you won't get rid of it the second I go to sleep.”

“I sleep with a special pillow case you sleep with a chair. Everyone has there comfort thing.” Miller said with a shrug. “Long as you never touch my pillow I won't touch your barrier and considering right now you're stuck in there and literally can't touch my pillow I think we're good.”

“Special pillow case?”

“Don't judge.” Miller said quickly. “You good?” Murphy pressed his palm against the barrier, feeling the jolt as his arm was knocked backwards and nodded gently.

“Yeah.”

“I'll teach you the spell. Might take a while, like I said it's fairly advanced, took me all summer to get it and dad said even that was impressive. Till you have it, I'll put this up each night. That work?” Murphy nodded again.

“Thanks.” He said quietly, Miller bowed his head, a small smile flickering across his face before he was scrambling back the few feet to his own bed and diving beneath the covers.

“Night Murphy.”

“Night.”

Miller seemed to fall asleep in moments. It took Murphy longer, his fingers twitching against the covers eyes shifting as if still trying to keep him awake. Eventually sleep took him, and if he woke up a few times and pressed a hand to the barrier, breathing a sigh of relief each time he bounced away it didn't matter. Everyone was asleep, no one would see him testing it.

When he eventually woke up in the morning it was still there. A quick look around the room showed the other boys had already left, all that remained were the unmade beds and a pair of pyjamas throw to the floor by one of the beds. Miller was the only one remaining. Sitting on his bed, a quill scratching across parchment as he wrote something.

“Morning.” Murphy grumbled, Miller ignored him, in favour of writing more. After a few moments he finished, signing with an extra flourish.

“Finally. Thought I was going to die of old age before you woke up.” Miller said, he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and flicked it towards Murphy, mumbling a spell, brow creased in concentration. After a moment he grinned, putting the wand down. “I'm gunna go to the owlery.”

“The what?”

“The owlery..Where the keep the owls. So I'll meet you at breakfast.. Unless you want to come?”

“Might as well, never seen an owlery before.” Murphy said. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”

“I dunno man, I think you're rocking those dinosaur pj's.” Miller joked, Murphy rolled his eyes, picking at the offending fabric.

“They were a gift.” A good two Christmases ago. Murphy was thankful he hadn't went through any major growth spurts, as it was the top still rose almost to his belly button and the trousers up past his ankles.

“Hurry up then. I'll meet you in the common room.” Miller said, walking out of the room letter clutched in his hand. Murphy quickly changed, packing his bag and putting on the uniform. His tie had somehow changed from the black one he'd bought to a green and silver stripped, the same with his robes. The inside changing from black to an emerald green. Murphy decided to forgo the cloak. Hanging it over his bag and left the tie tied in a loose knot leaving it looking like some kind of strange bow.

Miller raised an eyebrow at him when he entered the common room but said nothing. Murphy followed him silently out of the common room and up from the dungeons. His eyes finding the moving paintings again a small smile slipping onto his face as he watched a painting of a young woman curtsey at him.

The walk to the owlery seemed to take no time at all. Murphy too interested in the sights, they walked across a long bridge, that's floor seemed to twist beneath them, buckling up in some places. Made from hard wood with arches that looked over a canyon. Across a field with rocks almost like the stone henge before they were approaching the looming building. Murphy jogged up the steps after Miller.

The owlery, surprise surprise, smelt of bird. The rustle of feathers and flap of wings sounded as they entered. The floor was dirty, bits stained white with droppings. Murphy looked up at the winding staircase that reached the top of the tower. Perches lined the walls, owls sitting in them, beaks plucking through their feathers as they groomed.

“so you ever want to send a letter home, you just write it. Roll it up and-” Miller approached an owl, stroking it gently before attaching the rolled up letter to the birds leg he petted it once more before he stepped back. The bird lifted up of its perch, diving forwards, wings spearing out as it begun to fly. Murphy watched as it looped up the tower before disappearing through a gap in the wall. “The brown ones are generally the schools. The fancier ones will belong to someone so don't use them.”

“I can just.. send anyone a letter? How do they know where to go?”

“Owls are wise Murphy.” Miller murmured. “Give it a go. Sure your family would want to hear from you.” Murphy bit back a laugh.

“alright. Give me a minute.” Murphy insisted.

He quickly found out writing with a quill was no where near as easy as Miller made it look. His letters were left with splotches of leaking ink. His usual chicken scrawl even more illegible.

“Who you writing to?”

“Friend.” Murphy mumbled, wiping his thumb across a new splotch as if he could erase it, all it did was spread the ink and stain his thumb black.

“You realise no one's going to be able to read that right?” Miller asked, peering over his shoulder.

“He'll be able to read it.” Murphy said stiffly. He quickly scrawled another letter, this one to his mum. It was a simple 'Got here safe.'. Murphy blew on the ink, hoping to stop it from smudging any further when he rolled it up. “So now I just.. pick an owl.”

“Yes.”

“You realise they have talons right?” Murphy said, peering at the closest owl with a mistrusting look.

“They're fine. See.” Miller walked forwards gently petting an owl. “Come on.” Murphy sighed, inching forwards and tentatively attached the letter. Leaning his head back almost comically far, worried the docile owl might dive bomb his face at any second. Miller watched with an amused smirk but said nothing. Finally, the two letters were sent.

“Alright then. You ready for breakfast?” Miller asked shooing Murphy out onto the steps into the owlery.

“I don't really eat breakfast.” Murphy admitted. His eyes swept over the grounds, he could see a small hut next to a forest that stretched on for miles, the bridge they had walked across to get there, it's floor twisting and turning, buckling in a way that Murphy was sure most people would consider dangerous.

“You didn't in the muggle world, but this is Hogwarts, everything changes. Besides, you've got to try the cheeriowls.” Miller said. “Race you back.”

“Wait what?” Miller was already running off. Jumping down the stairs three at a time. “OI!” Murphy yelled, taking off after him. The morning air was crisp as he huffed in breaths, a laugh breaking out of him as Miller stumbled across the stones, letting Murphy take the lead. He raced back across the viaduct with a bright grin, head thrown back in laughter as Miller swore as he raced to catch back up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it, comments and kudos are always really really really appreciated :D xx


	4. Humour is selective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of classes begin

Murphy was absurdly happy that apparently Miller and Clarke be in every class he had. Not only because it meant he could leave the navigating the castle to them but also because, well. He was scared. Not that he'd admit it out loud. But he could hear the other kids talking about lessons as their schedules were handed out and once again became very aware that he was a stranger in a new world.

It seemed most of the other first years had had some knowledge of magic prior to getting there letter and despite Miller's assurance that none of them had really done magic before, at least not intentionally, Murphy couldn't help the paranoid little part of himself saying that they were lying. That he'd get into class and be shamed for his complete lack of knowledge.

By the time they reached the class from for their first lesson, transfiguration, Murphy's stomach was churning. It was strange, Murphy had never been the best student in primary school, at least, not after his dad died. He was too busy at home keeping him and his mother alive to bother with things like spelling tests or his homework. He'd spend half his time in class stuck in the strange middle ground between asleep and awake and never felt bad when he got his work back with a red scrawl of 'see me' on it. But, that was at home. Where his future prospects seemed to consist of getting a job at the local mcdonalds, or, if he was lucky, tesco express and working long hours at minimum wage just to move into some bedsit that would no doubt have damp and holes in the walls. Failing that it would be prison, which, really, considering most of his friends back in London would probably be joining him in there didn't seem like all too bad of a deal when he'd thought about it late one night.

Here however, it felt like he had an actual chance. He was away from home, safe in the castle. He was a wizard, where working with dragons was an actual job prospect. If he did well, or at least adequately he might be able to be someone. He was basically free of his mother, only having to see her a few times a year over the holidays. He had a chance and damn it. Murphy wanted to have his life here better than the one he left. One where a future that excited him was actually possible.

“Come on in, find a seat.” A man said, opening the door and waving them in. Murphy trudged along behind Miller and Clarke. Looking to the Ravenclaws Slytherin was sharing transfiguration with for the duration of the year. Ravenclaws were meant to be smart, it really wasn't helping his anxiety.

He slid into a seat at the back of the class. Miller and Clarke flanking him, the class settled down quickly, eager eyes looking to the front where a kind looking man with salt and pepper hair stood.

“Hello.” He said, face lighting in a smile as he looked over their faces. “I'm Professor Sinclair. I'm the transfiguration teacher here at Hogwarts so I'm afraid you'll be learning from me for the next seven years. I'd say transfigurations the most important, and not to mention the most exciting, form of magic but I'm pretty sure every teacher here would say that about there subject.” Sinclair kept yammering on, explaining the four main branches. What they would come to learn to do before he was handing out match sticks and telling them that they there first task would be to turn the matchstick into a needle.

Murphy knew it was quite literally the simplest transfiguration spell out there but it still felt too big. Especially after Sinclair spent half the lesson getting them to copy down notes and practise wand movements while ranting about the dangers transfiguration could pose before he was finally letting them get started. Telling them 'good luck' with an easy smile as if he hadn't just scared the hell out of a bunch of 11 year olds.

“Come on then. Give it a go.” Sinclair said, waving for the class to start. Murphy would have laughed at the nervous looks on peoples face were he not ready to run out of the class himself. He reached for his wand slowly, Miller and Clarke doing the same thing.

“It'll be fine.” Clarke said stiffly.

“Sure, unless it blows up in our faces.” Murphy mumbled.

“It won't blow up.” Miller said.

“He made it sound like it's going to blow up.” Murphy grumbled.

“It'll be fine.” Clarke repeated.

“Fine. But if I die you have to take care of my mum.”

“Aww, that's so sweet.”

“Wait until you meet her.” Murphy snorted. He licked his lips, concentrating and waving his wand in the way Sinclair had taught them. He waited with baited breath as nothing happened. Murphy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He could do this, he was a wizard, he was meant to be here. He waved his wand again. Nothing happened.

“Well...That was a boring.” Miller said bluntly. Murphy ignored him, trying again. And again, and again.

“Son of a bi-”

“You three need some help?” Murphy jumped, looking up to see Sinclair hovering over them with a raised eyebrow.

“It's not working.” Murphy grumbled bitterly. Jabbing his wand at the matchstick, knocking it off the table. It hit the floor with a barely audible thump.

“Transfiguration is without a doubt the hardest to master. I really doubt any of you will actually manage to change your match today.” Sinclair waved his wand, Murphy blinking stupidly as his matchstick levitated from the floor, before it slowly set itself back on the table.

“Can we learn that? That looks easier.” Murphy said.

“That's Charms. You'll learn that soon. Clarke, Nathan, have a go don't just watch.” Sinclair ordered. The two either side of Murphy sighed, getting to work. Murphy felt a bubble of happiness form when neither of their matchsticks moved.

“You'll find Transfigurations more of a science. You need to be precise,to know what you're doing. Sometimes visualising it helps. Try again.” Murphy did as he was told, frowning when nothing happened. “Keep trying.” A loud pop sounded drawing everyone's attention. Smoke plumed slowly from where a match had sat on a girls desk leaving Sinclair scuttling off towards her. Voice quiet as he took her through the wand movement and incantation again.

“Least were better than her.” Miller breathed.

“I dunno. At least hers did something.” Murphy replied.

He was happy to find Sinclair hadn't been lying and apparently everyone couldn't do it, not just him. The nagging panic of being the only one not good enough faded away as the students got more and more frustrated. Murphy groaned in frustration, head leaning on one hand, mumbling the incantation stiffly as he waved his wand above the match.

Miller had given up a good ten minutes before, declaring that he would try again that night and had since been twirling the match stick in his fingers, looking at it forlorn. Clarke had pulled her hair into a ponytail, blonde wisps straying out as her mutters turned to hisses. Murphy groaned pitifully.

He was a wizard goddammit. If Abby could turn Clawdia into a water goblet he could turn a match into a needle. He couldn't help but think about how happy his mum would be to see him failing. He grit his teeth, nudging the match stick off the table once more. It floated back a moment later, Sinclair smiling at him from the front of the class and waving for him to try again.

Murphy wondered when they would learn to set things on fire. He'd quite like to burn the stupid match. He grit his teeth. Spitting out the incantation and jabbing his wand at the needle again, sending it spiralling off the table. At least, he thought, he was giving Sinclair something to do other than give out encouragement that sounded like it belonged on a posted in Dax's mothers kitchen.

Clink,clap. Murphy's eyes widened at the small sound of the match hitting the ground. He looked up to Sinclair, who' stood up from his perch at the front of class. Marching over towards Murphy with a grin.

 _No way._ Murphy thought, ducking beneath the table ignoring Miller's startled yelp as he elbowed him in the thigh on the way down His breath caught as he looked at the match on the floor. Or, the sort of match.

Because, it still was a match, partly at least. The head was still there, ready to be dragged across a rough surface and set fire to but the end. The end was a shiny silver, bowing out into the eye of a needle.

“Good job.” Murphy jumped, head slamming hard against the underside of the table. Murphy was overjoyed that he wasn't in what was meant to be his secondary school because he was sure if he was he would have just gotten more than a few pieces of half dried gum stuck in his hair. Murphy groaned, rubbing his head with a grimace as Sinclair crouched down next to the table, picking up the half match half needle with two fingers and holding it out for Murphy to see. “You know. Most people usually change the colour before they chance the material.”

“I like to be unique.”

“You definitely did that.” Sinclair said, looking to the match curiously. “Keep trying, maybe you can get the other half by the end of the lesson.”

Murphy didn't manage to get the match to change any more throughout the lesson. Clarke however managed to get hers tinted so it looked like it had been made out of silver birch, both of the ends were pointed however. Murphy wondered if perhaps the way to do well at transfiguration was to feel a seething hatred for what you were trying to do as it seemed to work well enough for both he and Clarke.

By the time the first period was rolling to a close only he and Clarke had managed to make any impact on their match sticks. The two preening over them proudly as they were shooed off to their next lesson, a class Murphy was sure he wouldn't have gotten to if not for Clarke and Miller. He'd read that the staircases 'liked to change' but to actually see it was different, and to be told that he had to use them to get to class. It wasn't that he was scared of the staircases, it was just, surely, magical moving steps that had things like 'trick steps' were just a really bad idea to put in a school. Especially one that had literally towers in it that the students had to walk to the top of. He wondered how may students had died from falling from a staircase as it suddenly moved away before they could step on it.

Miller and Clarke forced him up to the moving death traps despite all his bitching that he didn't want to and they reached their next class in time. Clarke grinned brightly, dropping Murphy's arm from where she'd been tugging on it when she saw Wells waiting outside the class room.

“Wells!! look!” She exclaimed, shoving her silver match into Wells's face. The boy leant back to keep from getting hit, a warm smile already on his face.

“That's awesome!”

“We had History of magic first thing. Binns has got to be the most boring man I've ever met.” Monty groaned.

“What do you expect, he's been dead for years. It's not like he can get out much.” Miller snorted.

“Hopefully this class will be a bit more fun.” Monty said. The door snapped open with a flourish leaving the first years jumping as a tall man with dirty blonde hair came out of the classroom. He looked, normal, dressed in fairly tatty jeans and a pull over. That suddenly made Murphy very conscious of the fact he was wearing robes.

“Wow. You're tiny.” The man said, looking over the gaggle of first years with a frown. “I swear you kids are getting shorter. I was never that small....Well. Come on in then.” He said, doing a flourishing wave at the now opened door. Murphy followed the others into the class room, blinking at the strange lay out. Unlike the last class room it wasn't like what Murphy was use to in his school. Instead there were rows of pews along either side of the room. Leaving the floor for the class room almost like a runway. Wells sat them at the front leaving Murphy groaning as he fell onto the small chair. The man, their teacher. Stood in the centre watching the children as they scurried to find seats. Once they all fell into their chairs he clapped with hands with a loud boom.

“Perfect, Now, I'll be teaching you charms. My names Wick but you can call me prince charming.” The class sat in an awkward silence, Wick shifting in the centre. “Well, that usually gets at least one laugh.” He said after a moment.

“Lets hope your teachings better than your jokes.” Murphy mumbled before he could stop himself. The classes eyes snapped to him, Wick spinning on his heel with a raised eyebrow.

“Which one of you said that?” Wick said, eyes scanning over the front row. “No takers? Alright, well, it's got to be first row or I wouldn't have heard it.” Wick reasoned, eyes sweeping across Murphy and the others. “And, lets be real, it's not going to have been a Hufflepuff. So..you.” His finger pointed at Murphy. “Stand up kid.” Murphy stood up slowly, squaring his shoulders.

“It wasn't me.” Murphy lied.

“Wow. I almost believe you.” Wick said in awe. “That's some talent kid. Keep lying like that and you'll get somewhere. But you see, I know Clarke, Wells and Little Nathan here.” Wick said, scrubbing his hand over Miller's head, The boy slapped him off quickly. “So that leaves you. What's your name kid?”

“Murphy, but you can call me Cinderella”

“I personally prefer Prince charming with Snow white personally.”

“I personally think that kissing someone when they're unconscious is just plain creepy.” Murphy said. “Sir.”

“Touche little man.” Wick said with a nod. “How about you come help me with a little demonstration to the class.” Wick ordered. Waving Murphy out to the centre of the room. Murphy shifted for a moment twisting his hands in the sleeves of his robes before he gave a small nod, moving back out from behind the bench, Wick caught his shoulder, leading him to the centre of the classroom and positioning him to face the large window on the other side of the room before he turned and marched a few steps away and then swung back on his heel to face Murphy, point his wand at Murphy's stomach.

“Now, Watch and learn children.” Wick said.

“Wait what are you-” Murphy yelped. Wick didn't give him time to run, muttering a spell. Murphy flinched. Ready for to be hit with the power of a spell, only nothing happened. Not really, not until he felt his clothes shifting slightly as they, and he, begun to lift off the floor.

“So today, we'll be learning the levitation charm.” Wick said, keeping his wand pointed at Murphy as he rose slowly from the floor, stopping about two foot from it. Murphy wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. Stuck hanging in the air watching the teacher nervously as little gasps of surprise rose from the students. “Now, of course, you won't be trying it on each other, you'll be working on feathers. Now this is a simple charm, as you can see, I'm not putting in that much effort or attention, but that's because I'm good at it. You guys will need to put those little brains on the problem so, if you're planning to make jokes like this one then expect your sarky comments to be the only thing flying in my class.” Wick carefully lowered Murphy back to the ground, his feet hit the floor with a gentle pat his heart hammering as he looked to the smiling teacher before him. “Now, please give a warm round of applause for Cinderella. Not many kids would be brave enough to stand in front of me when I try to do some magic.” Wick actually did clap, along with most of the class. “Thank you for your help.” Wick said, patting Murphy on the back. “You can take your seat now. Monty my man. I need your help to show off another spell.”

“I'm getting the impression you'll be showing off a lot this year.” Murphy said, Wick turned to him again, eyebrow raised once more. Murphy grinned sheepishly, dropping into his seat.

“Gotta say Monty, I'm liking the new friend, now come on.” Wick urged. Monty sighed, slowly standing up and making his way to Murphy vacated place in the centre of the room. Wick raised his wand.

“You know if I die my mum will kill you.”

“I'm very much aware of that.” Wick said with a smile. “Now, A more fun charm with the same effect is this. Levicorpus.” Monty shot up into the air in an instant. Letting out a startled yelp as he swung round until he was dangling by his feet a good meter in the air. “Much cooler right. You okay there Monty?”

“So much better than history of magic.” Monty said, voice nasally from the blood currently pouring into his head leaving him red cheeked. Murphy wanted to know that spell.

“That's my boy.” Wick said happily, raising his non wand wielding hand for a high five. Monty laughed, clapping his hand clumsily against Wicks. He lowered Monty to the ground none to carefully, and by that Murphy meant he let the spell drop and then quickly caught Monty in his arms before the boy could hit the floor. He set Monty back on his feet letting him walk away with a round of applause. Murphy couldn't help but grin.

“Now. Charms isn't just fun and games, it's a vital and at times dangerous type of magic. We have of course, things like the cheering charm, which is fun for everyone, the dancing charm, again fun but there's also charms that could destroy an entire room in seconds. So I want you to have fun, but I need you guys to listen to me. If I say not to do something you gotta know I'm saying it for your own good. I'm not here to stop your fun or bore you to death like poor old professor Binns. I'm here to teach you and keep you safe. So. Let's get down to it shall we?”

Murphy spent the next hour working on trying to make a feather fly with a grin on his face that only grew when it crept up from it's placement on the table to hover by Murphy's eyes, he couldn't get it any higher than that without it suddenly falling down, or, in one memorable time, bursting into brightly coloured flames that even Wick seemed to be impressed with.

Murphy spent the remainder of the day in a good mood, which was a strange thing considering he was technically at school but still. He'd had potions with the Gryffindor's and well, Murphy was good at that apparently. Murphy didn't really understand how you couldn't be, it was the same as cooking, not that he did it often, but, it was just measuring things out, stirring and getting the timings right. Not exactly rocket science. It was less 'feeling' like the other classes and more reading instructions which, although Murphy didn't particularly like to do, he could do.

Murphy and Clarke had spent the first ten minutes of lunch arguing over who's 'needle' was the best. Miller, Jasper and Bellamy all taking votes on who's they preferred until Monty and Wells arrived, Monty proudly holding up a perfect, if slightly small, needle.

The last class of the day they were back with Wells and Monty heading to the Green house where Murphy met Monty's mother, Hannah, or professor Green as he was suppose to call her. Murphy soon found out that he was not good at Herbology. He thought he might get better, when he got use to the plants moving out of the way when he tried to cut them.

Still, Murphy left the class with a smile, even as he picked leaves out of his hair from the plants that had fought back. He listened absent mindedly to Monty as he ranted animatedly about why Herbology was one of the most important subjects to Miller who was arguing that defence against the dark arts was infact the most important.

“They're both wrong.” Wells said. “It's obviously charms, charms is at the base to pretty much everything and-”

“Transfigurations actually more important than charms if you think about it wells.” Clarke said, Wells frowned.

“But Clarke-” Wells started. Murphy rolled his eyes, looking to the four people who he thought he might start considering friends who were happily discussing school work, after school hours. Feeling a bloom of hope in his chest.

He'd made it through the first day. He hadn't grievously embarrassed himself or had his wand snatched away from him when a teacher realised he wasn't actually a wizard, that there was some mistake.

“Murphy!” Four voices called the group turning to him. “What do you think? What's most important?”

“I'm going to say potions.” Murphy lied. The group let out a groan. Mumbles of 'such a cop out' rolling off their tongues and Murphy let himself be bought into the conversation as each took their go trying to convince him that their subject was actually the most important leaving Murphy smiling at the ground. It seemed, for once, Murphy really belonged somewhere.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, so sorry it took me so long to update. I got a bit lost on Now and then :P  
> Hope you enjoy it!


	5. Drinking glasses on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy tries out flying and cashes in on Nyko's promise.

“I can't wait to try out flying.” Murphy said giddily, too excited to eat despite still having a few hours until the lesson, but he'd been waiting since the moment he found out that flying broomsticks were actually real things to try one out. It had been two days since Murphy started at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and today, today marked the halfway point of his first week and god. Murphy already loved it.

Perhaps the clothes were a bit strange and his Charms teacher was a bit of a narcissist, but he was a funny one and Murphy was well fed for what was definitely the first time in years and this evening he was literally going to fly.

He missed things about the muggle world. His friends Mbege, Dax and Atom. He missed people who didn't think Pumpkin juice was something acceptable to drink, but otherwise. He didn't miss much, he had Clawdia with him, he had a room that was a thousand times better than his one at home and was making new friends. Friends who didn't know who he was, they didn't know that the bruise that had faded from his face had been from his mother. Here he was a normal kid, no dark back story latched onto him like a noose.

“Seriously? I have to force you to go up the stairs but you'll get on a broom happily?” Miller snorted.

“Yeah. Of course.” Murphy said.

“Why is that of course?” Clarke asked.

“Because a broomstick is meant to fly. Stairs aren't meant to move.”

“Muggle broomsticks don't fly. Magical ones do. Magical stairs don't move-”

“Escalators Clarke.” Murphy reminded her.

“Magical ones do.” Clarke finished. “It's not a big deal.”

“It's weird. What if they go wrong and start doing flips and I plummet to my death?” Murphy inquired.

“Then at least we'll be free of your whinging.” Miller mumbled. He had a feeling Miller would get on with his friends back in London. Murphy heard the hoot of an owl and looked up to watch as a hoard of owls fluttered through the great hall, dropping letters and parcels into waiting students hands leaving him awestruck for a few moments, before a question popped into his head once more.

“So-”

“No Murphy, for the last time, no one charms the owls not to poo when there in here. They just don't, it's not like there in here long. They probably know to wait.” Clarke said quickly.

“If I were an owl I'd definitely crap on everyone.” Murphy said softly.

“Do you three ever have normal conversations?” Bellamy asked, dropping down between Clarke and Miller.

“Not since he came.” Miller said easily, pointing his fork at Murphy.

“You can't say you don't think about it.”

“I can honestly say I never think about the birds sh-” Murphy yelped as parcel slapped against his head.

“What the..” Murphy grumbled, rubbing at his head as retrieved it from the floor. Blinking when he saw his name written out on the front, complete with a stamp and some question marks where the address should be.

“What'd you get?”

“I dunno.” Murphy mumbled. Murphy picked it open cautiously, unwrapping the brown paper it was in. A small box sat beneath it. Murphy pulled the lid off, a letter sat at the top that Murphy quickly tossed onto the table to get to whatever it was. He snorted when he saw what looked like a years supply of dipdap's and a few freddos. The last thing in the box was a pair of round glasses, made out of long drinking straws. He picked them up curious.

“The hell is that?” Miller asked.

“Glasses.” Murphy replied simply. He put them on, tucking the trailing straw behind his ears and dipping one end into his orange juice and the other into his mouth, because even after almost four days he didn't want to drink pumpkin juice. He sucked hard at the end of the straw in his mouth, watching as the orange liquid slowly made it's way up the thin tubes, circling around both eyes before finally making it's way to his mouth.

“Dearest Johnathon.” Bellamy read in a fancy voice. Murphy looked up and frowned when he saw Bellamy holding the letter he'd dropped onto the table. “It is I, Johnathon. I do hope you're settling in well at the academy of the self righteous. I hereby give you these tokens of my affections in the hopes you do not forget us common folk. Remember who you are.”

“Your friends are weird.” Miller mumbled.

“It goes on.” Bellamy said.

“Give it.” Murphy grumbled. Bellamy waved him off, leaning back so Murphy couldn't snatch it from across the table.

“For real though.” Bellamy read. “It's Mbege. If you thought I was going to understand the blot test you sent me then you're tripping. Thought you might be a bit lonely with those fancy pants school boys wherever the hell you are. Not gonna lie, I feel like an idiot because I'm planning to put this back on the owl you sent it to me with. It's just watching me man. You know owls are creepy, if you're gonna be a freak at least send me something like a pigeon, or a humming bird. But yeah, hope you're well mate. Don't become too snobby. Hope this gets to you and I'm not that wanker who dies trying to get an owl to carry my parcel. Miss you mate.”

“Awww.” The three cooed.

“Fuck off.” Murphy grumbled, finally managing to snatch the letter away from Bellamy. He folded it up quickly, shoving it into the pocket of his robes. “You know it's illegal to open someone else's mail.” Bellamy shrugged with a grin, grabbing himself a plate of food.

“You know you're at the wrong table right?” Clarke asked.

“Jasper's sitting with Monty and Wells, thought I'd come see my best friend.”

“Well I'm touched but I don't think we're there yet.” Murphy said making Bellamy chuckle. Murphy grinned back at him, chewing on the end of his straw before sipping more orange juice. Murphy jumped as he was suddenly being shoved to the side. A body falling into the seat next to him.

“You looked like you were having fun.” Jasper said. Murphy was shoved further along the bench as Wells and Monty joined them.

“What did you get?” Jasper asked, picking through Murphy's box of sweets.

“Nothing.” Murphy grumbled, slapping his hand away and pulling the box close to his chest, hunching over it slightly to protect it's content, still sipping aggressively at the straw, orange juice curling in the tubes around his eyes.

“Come on.”

“Is your friend really called John too?” Bellamy asked.

“John Mbege.” Murphy corrected.

“Your friends with someone with the same name as you?”

“Yeah, well we tried to fight to the death over the name but you know, we were babies at the time and so we couldn't exactly reach each other to do the murdering so we pretty much got use to it.” Murphy said.

“Is that why you go by Murphy? Because your best friend has the same name as you” Wells asked.

“I go by Murphy because I prefer Murphy.” Murphy said hotly. He really didn't want to get into the fact he'd only started going by Murphy after his father had died, that John was too painful for a good few years from anyone other than his grandfather.

“but-” Jasper started.

“Miller goes by his surname too, why don't you give him shit for it.” Murphy snapped. The table fell into an uncomfortable silence as the group realised that Murphy didn't want to talk about his name.

“SO.” Jasper said, loud enough to draw the attention of the older Slytherins further down the table.

“So.” Monty hummed. The table went through a round of 'so's' that left Murphy rolling his eyes.

“Oh! I know! Murphy, when are you going to the forbidden forest.”

“What?”

“He's not it's forbidden.”

“Yeah but Professor Nyko said he'd take Murphy for a tour.” Jasper said. “So when are you going?”

“I'm not?” Murphy said slowly. He hadn't even thought about it since the end of the bet to be honest. He was more than happy with the galleons he'd been given.

“You have to! First years never get to go into the forbidden forest.” Jasper exclaimed.

“Again, probably because it's forbidden.” Wells noted.

“Don't worry Wells, it's not like Murphy would have the guts to go into the forest anyway.” Bellamy snorted.

“And why do you think that?”

“Because you're a Slytherin. Slytherin's don't know the meaning of bravery.”

“Excuse me.” Clarke seethed.

“Come on princess, you have to admit. Slytherins aren't brave, they run cowering from-”

“No we don't. We just don't jump into every fight we see because of some stupid hero complex. We're smart about what we- Murphy where are you going?”

“I'm getting Nyko to take me to the forest. Tonight.” Murphy grumbled, straw end flying out of the orange juice as he marched onwards, spraying small droplets at those left on the table.

“See, that's the thing about Slytherin's. There smart until you pull the right string. That strings generally your pride.” Bellamy said smugly. Murphy heard Clarke's outraged huff before he made it out of hearing range.

He didn't stop walking until he'd reached the teachers table, stalking down the length of it, ignoring the small smile Abby shot at him. He came to a halt in front of Nyko. Eyeing the large man for a moment before he finally looked up.

“You said we could go to the forbidden forest.”

“Fine. When?” Nyko said.

“Uh..Tonight.” Murphy offered hopefully. Nyko gave a nod.

“Okay, you have detention with me tonight.”

“Wait detention what-”

“Student's can't just walk into the forest without a reason kid.” Nyko said calmly. “I'll see you for detention.” Nyko stood up, dropping his fork to his plate with a loud clatter before he walked off without a look back leaving Murphy blinking dumbly after him.

“Cinderella, love the glasses!” Wick called from the end of the table. Murphy glowered, turning and making his way back to the table, ignoring the way the straw glasses were still dripping a slow trail of orange juice in his wake.

*

The day passed quickly. Murphy's hand cramping from the ferocious note taking he was doing. Of course, he wouldn't be able to use them, his penmanship or quillmanship was still abysmal but, he was improving. Murphy gave it a week before he could actually read the notes he made. And well. Until then the teachers would have to deal with his homework being illegible.

When normal classes ended for the day Murphy found himself rushing through the courtyard with the other first years. A small gaggle of them sprinting through the older kids who dove out of the way and grinned at them, no doubt remembering what it was like to have their first flying lesson.

They reached the quidditch field, where their lesson would be taking place. Met with a woman that Murphy had so far only seen sitting at the teachers table. With cropped dark hair and dark skin. A frown on her face as the students stumbled to a stop.

“Choose a broom, stand over it. Don't touch it.” The woman ordered. Murphy rushed forwards, choosing a broom towards the end of the line. Closest to the teacher. Clarke and Miller took their places next to him, while Bellamy, Wells, Monty and Jasper took the brooms opposite. “My name is Indra, I'll be teaching you how to fly.” Indra said bluntly. “Now out your right hand over your broom and say up.”

“UP!” Jasper yelled. Murphy watched as his broom rocketed towards his palm, only it didn't hit, instead it got caught between his leg dealing a hefty blow to his groin. The boy squealed, cupping the abused area and falling to the floor along with his broomstick while the boys in the group groaned in sympathy.

“You're meant to stand to the side of it jasper.” Monty cackled.

“You can tell he's not a Ravenclaw.” Miller mumbled making Murphy snort out a laugh.

“Get back up and try again.” Indra said. “the rest of you, go on.”

Murphy looked away from Jasper, still writhing on the floor and stretched out his right hand, hovering it over the broomstick.

“Up.” Murphy ordered, the broomstick gave a waggle from it's place on the floor, shivering against the grass. “Up.” Murphy repeated, louder. The broom rose half a foot and dropped back to the floor. He could hear the other kids around him doing the same, repeating 'Up' like they were trying to train a dog. “Up. Up Up Up..” Murphy tried. Watching as the broom bounced around. He looked back to the others with a frown, some had their broomsticks in their hands. Others were still trying. Cheeks pink in frustration, Jasper finally pulling himself up off the floor. Monty's broomstick shot straight across the floor instead of up, speeding across the gap between the two lines of students and slapping into Miller's legs with a dull thump. Murphy let out a loud laugh that was only echoed by one other person, even as Monty ran across the gap apologising to Miller and scrambling to get his broom and get back into place. Murphy's eyes found Bellamy, watching the debacle with a warm smile. Leaning against his broomstick as if it were a fence post. His eyes slowly moved back to his broom, holding his hand out again “up.” It jiggled once again “Get the fuck up!” Murphy hissed. The broom shot up into his palm, slapping against it roughly leaving him scrambling to close his fingers around it before it could drop back down to the floor. It didn't of course, the wood felt almost weightless in Murphy's fingers, as if it was pushing up against them, trying to continue on to fly off into the summer sky.

When Murphy was eight his friend Dax got a shiny new bike, it was red and sleek with thick black tires and a bell that was more like a fog horn. His mother was too busy to teach him how to ride it, his father was a dead beat and so Murphy, Mbege and Atom had taught him in exchange for getting to play on it as well. They'd taken the day, from first thing in the morning when Dax had knocked on each of there doors holding his new bike with a bright grin to last thing at night when the sky had dipped to a inky black and the older kids and adults had begun roaming out to go to the local pubs. Dax had, of course, went first. The three of them taking turns holding the back for him while he got himself steady, Atom was next, then Mbege and by the time it was Murphy's turn to have a go the others were bored of teaching and so Murphy had sat on it then swiftly been shoved down a large hill, forced to hold on for dear life and attempt to keep the bike steady and Murphy had, because, if there was one thing Murphy was good at, it was adapting to the situation. He'd shifted his weight back and forth while the bike swayed precariously and kept it upright until he'd hit a speed bump and went flying. The rest of the day had been spent jetting down the hill one at a time all trying not to break their necks.

Flying, it seemed, was a lot like riding a bike, or surviving that same hill on the skateboard Mbege had gotten for Christmas last year. It was all about balance and keeping in the terrified scream that was threatening to rip through your throat because you didn't want to loose face in front of the other kids. The thing about Indra was that she was what Murphy would call a Nike teacher. Apart from the basics of 'Broom in your hand, legs either side' they didn't get much tutoring, once they'd managed to get it off of the floor, they just did it. Sitting on the broom and rising from the ground nervously, forced to figure it out themselves or tumble back onto the soft ground bellow while she watched and corrected the worst of the bunch and caught those who raised a bit too far of the ground, pulling them back down before they could speed away.

The broom felt like it was humming beneath Murphy's fingers as he gripped it with white knuckles. Somehow, it reminded Murphy of a dog on a lead. When they're pulling softly against it, listening to you but you still know they want nothing more than to run off and get to the park already. And like with a dog on a lead Murphy wanted nothing more than to just give in and let it do just that. To rise into the sky like it seemed to be calling for him to do. To see just how fast it could go, whether he could do a loopde loop.

It felt strangely normal. The solid weight of the broom beneath him felt just like a sitting on a bike, or sliding down a railing. He knew he was technically flying, could see the floor a few feet bellow his feet taking his breath away but if he closed his eyes he couldn't tell.

Something about that made it better. Made the anxiety bubbling in his chest seep away and leave him with a warmth spreading through his stomach because he knew he could do this. Still, the lesson was just as amazing as he thought it would be. The first years teetering around the quidditch pitch while Indra watched and called for them to do turns. They weren't allowed to go particularly high, not until they got use to it. But god, it was amazing, Murphy had pushed his body close to the broom leaving him zooming across the quidditch pitch, wind whistling in his ears and hair whipping around. Great laughs booming from him as he made sudden turns that left him flying side ways for a few moments.

When the lesson came to an end it felt too soon, like they'd only been up for a few minutes instead of the hour and a half they had gotten. Murphy let his been yanked away by the others, shoved away from the Quidditch pitch as they all scuttled towards through the courtyard.

“So,..did anyone else find her terrifying? Jasper asked. Murphy's mind was else where, barely hearing it, far too busy wondering just how much a broomstick cost.

“A little.” Monty admitted.

“She should scare you.” Miller said. “She was an auror. One of the best they've had. My dad cried when she left.”

“You think she's scary now you should see her in action.” Clarke said. “She runs the duelling club. Professor Jaha let us watch a demonstration last year between her and Kane, it was amazing.”

“Oh Merlin! You remember that one bit where-” Murphy let the words filter out of his mind, picking through his room back home in his mind, wondering just how much change he could wrangle together, whether or not quality quidditch supplies would do payment plans.

“You enjoy flying?” Murphy was thrown from his thoughts when he realised the words were actually directed at him. Blinking over at Bellamy who'd fallen into step beside him. Murphy could still hear Wells and Clarke giving a blow by blow rendition of the duelling club they'd been able to watch.

“Yeah.” Murphy said, a smile blooming on his face.

“Kinda like riding a bike right?” Bellamy nudged.

“You thought that too?”

“Oh thank god. Thought you'd think I was insane for saying it.” Bellamy said with a grin. “Don't get me wrong, it goes way faster and it's higher and amazing because you're _flying_ but It's just-”

“Kinda piss easy once you get use to it.” Murphy suggested.

“Exactly.” Bellamy said. “I can't wait till we can try out for the quidditch team. I want to be a chaser.”

“I liked the sound of a beater. Just getting to hit people with a bat.” Murphy said.

“You hit bludgers, not people.”

“Unless you 'miss'.” Murphy joked. “Seeker seems fun after that lesson. Getting to go as fast as possible.”

“There's more skill in the other positions though and you get to do more. I'm surprised you know anything about quidditch.”

“Quality Quidditch supplies was a nice shop to walk around. A lot of kids are in there without the money for stuff so you don't get kicked out too fast for not buying something.” Murphy said. “The owner wouldn't shut up about Quidditch when he realised I didn't know anything.”

“You go to Diagon alley a lot?”

“Sometimes, it's not only like an hour or so walk from mine so I'd go there while my friends were busy .”

“You should definitely try and join the Slytherin team next year. That way when I beat you I get a medal, unlike when I'm better than you in class”

“What class have you been better than me in?” Murphy snorted.

“All the ones we share together.”

“Excuse me. The past two days I've been wiping the floor with you in potions.”

“Pike likes me more.”

“Because you're a kiss arse. Not because you're good at it.” Murphy said. “And Defence against the dark arts-”

“Kane also likes me more.”

“He's the head of the Gryffindor house. Of course he likes you more. I'm pretty sure there's like a rule that he has to like the Gryffindor's more. Doesn't mean you're better than me though.”

“You sure about that?” Bellamy asked smugly. Murphy rolled his eyes, grinning right back at the boy. He liked Bellamy, they hadn't talked all that much in the few days he'd been at Hogwarts but Bellamy reminded him more of the people he was use to. Same with Miller, the two could fit in amongst Murphy's crowd far easier than the rest and, Well, Bellamy actually understood a few things about the muggle world and shared Murphy's hatred of quills.

“Pretty sure.” Murphy said.

“I'll bet you a freddo that I'll get a better mark on my homework that you do.”

“You just want a freddo don't you?”

“There's just something comforting about eating a chocolate frog that doesn't try to wriggle back out of my mouth.” Bellamy said making Murphy laugh. He dug his hand into the pocket of his robes, sifting through the dib daps to grab at the metallic foil of a freddo. He pulled it out and jabbed Bellamy with it.

“Here. It's not like I paid for it so you can have one.” Murphy said. Bellamy grinned, snatching the chocolate off him and tearing into it. He bit into the head, snapping it off with a crunch. “But if I last longer than you in the forest you have to buy me more of them.”

“How about whoever screams first has to get the other ten freddo's and a chomp?”

“You're on.”

“Did you know it's a full moon tonight?” Bellamy said whimsical and light. Looking up to the sunny sky. “Hope the werewolves have moved on from the forbidden forest.”

“Werewolves?” Murphy squeaked. Bellamy looked back to him, feral grin in place.

“Oh no. You're scared of werewolves are you? That's terrible.” Bellamy said dryly.

*

Murphy knew that Nyko had technically only said that he would take Murphy for a look around the forest but Murphy was all about sharing the fun, like Dax with his bike and if that in turn gave him a barrier of people between him and any of the many creatures he'd heard lived within the woods then, well, that was just good sense.

One thing Murphy really wasn't sure about however, was how his small group of him Miller and Bellamy had turned into all of them going. They met up with Wells and Monty in the dungeon's. Making their way to the entrance hall sneaking past any prefects they saw.

Murphy knew he could just say that they had detention with Nyko and they'd be let past, or at least, he would be, but, whereas he wouldn't mind leaving Monty, Clarke and Wells behind, all of which who were muttering about what a bad idea the whole thing was, he wanted at least Miller to come with him and didn't want to risk him being shooed off back to the Slytherin common room.

Bellamy and Jasper met them in the entrance hall and then they were off, out the doors rushing through the dark courtyard, across the rickety viaduct and to the rock formations. Murphy spotted the owlery, grey brick reflecting the moonlight. He needed to write Mbege back soon.

When they made their way down the steep hill towards Nyko's hut the others slowly fell back, shrinking behind Murphy as if he were a shield. Murphy rolled his eyes, stomping up the small wooden steps and knocking on the door a few times, hard as he could.

He didn't have to wait long for the door to swing open. A wave of warmth pouring from the open door, surrounding Murphy for a moment before it was swept away by the wind. A fire flickered in the fireplace behind Nyko as the man stood in the doorway.

“I didn't say you could bring friends..” Nyko said dryly, looking over Murphy's head at the group hovering a few meters away, like a herd of gazelle read to flee from a lion.

“I don't know what you guys teach the wizard kids but in the muggle world it's generally a bad idea to walk into a dark forest with a stranger. And after reading up about the employment history at Hogwarts you being a teacher didn't exactly make me feel all too confident about my safety. ” Murphy said. “No offence.” He added with a shrug.

Nyko nodded, stepping forwards forcing Murphy to scuttle back down the stairs and rejoin the group as the man locked his door and met them on the grass.

“Stay close. If you wander off your death will be of your own doing.”

“Inspiring words.” Murphy said.

“Grab a lantern and lets go.” Nyko said, pointing his wand at the lanterns and muttering a spell, flames burst to life in each of them, casting the area in an orange glow. They grabbed the lanterns and took off after Nyko, already marching into the forest.

It was dark, unsurprisingly, the thick trees and towering branches blocking out the light from the moon. The darkness seemed to swallow the lanterns lights. Murphy had to hand it to Nyko, he was a fair tour guide, especially considering he must have had better things to do than sneak a gaggle of children into the forest. He'd stop, pointing at tracks on the ground, explaining what animal it was and little facts about them. Murphy had almost busted a gut the first time, laughing as the man pointed out unicorn tracks until he realised that no, the professor wasn't joking, there really were unicorns in the forest. It only got better when he explained that baby unicorns were gold.

Murphy wondered how much you could sell a baby unicorn for. He was pretty sure he'd be able to retire and set up his kids for life on one baby unicorn.

There were centaur tracks and hippogriff tracks. A tree full of little creatures called bowtruckles that Nyko had let each of them pick up and handle gently. There were spider webs that were so long and thick Murphy had to wonder whether spiderman was real too and was just hiding out in the forbidden forest.

Murphy froze as a creature walked out into the clearing they were making their way across. Mouth falling open as he looked over it's skeletal frame. It looked like a horse in a child's bad dream. Morphed into something terrifying. The group kept picking their way across the clearing.

“The hell is that?” Murphy gasped, jutting a finger out towards it. Murphy watched as Nyko followed his finger before he paused.

“What is it? I don't see anything.” Monty said, twirling his body to try to get a good look at where Murphy was pointing. “Am I looking in the right place or-”

“It's a thestral.” Nyko said softly. Like the words held a weight and apparently they did, from the wide eyed stares of the group suddenly turning on him. “You want to go see it? Nyko offered, walking towards the thing slowly. Murphy ignored the looks he was getting, stumbling after Nyko as the man reached for the thestral, stroking a hand down it's back, hand ridging over the protruding lumps of bone. “You can touch him, he won't mind as long as your gentle.” Nyko offered. Murphy was all to happy to do just that, reaching out slowly to brush his fingers across it's back, or at least, as high as he could reach on it's back.

“You can really see it?” Monty asked, inching towards them.

“Obviously, you can't?” Murphy said curiously, not taking his eyes of the creepy creature in front of him.

“Not many people can, certainty not people your age.” Nyko said.

“Why not?” Murphy asked. Nyko shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

“You have to have seen someone die to be able to see them.” Miller said bluntly. Murphy yanked his hand away from it as if burnt.

“What?” Murphy croaked, turning to look back at the group, still watching him warily. He was met with eyes shifting away from him guiltily. “I haven't..I mean..” Murphy thought of his dad, of the blood pulsing across the floor, over his hands in warm rivets. “So are they evil?” Murphy asked, looking away from the group back to the thestral. “I mean, if you have to have..Are they like omens or something?”

“No. Not at all. They're quite friendly as you can see.” Nyko said, stroking gently behind the beasts ear. “I like to think they're only visible to those who've seen death because they know they need a little bit more magic in their lives.” Nyko said, smiling softly at Murphy. “Does anyone else want to stroke him before we move on?”

Murphy watched in awe as Nyko slowly led everyone's hands to the creature, pressing them softly against it's leathery skin, they way their eyes would widen in shock as if they weren't expecting to actually touch anything. Murphy wondered what that was like, touching something you couldn't see. Monty grinned brightly at him from where he was gently petting the thestrals neck.

“You know they can fly too?” Monty said. “Can you see it's wings?” Murphy looked slowly down it's body, to the wings folded at it's back, as if it knew what Murphy was looking for it stretched it's wings out, Clarke's hair fluttered back in the gust of wind it made. The wings were strange, the golden light of the lanterns shone through the taught skin, bones visible climbing through the wings like veins on the leaf.

“Yeah.” Murphy said softly.

“What are they like?”

“Pretty gross.” Murphy said with a small smile, inching his fingers towards the animals muzzle, the hard bone clapped against his palm as the creature moved to brush against Murphy's hand. “Cool though, kinda see though.” The group listened in rapt attention as Murphy tried to describe the creature. Eventually it trotted off, lost amongst the darkness.

They kept going, stooping under branches and crunching over fallen leaves deep into the forest. They didn't see anything new but every so often they'd come across another tree of bowtruckles or Monty would spot a plant they were due to learn about soon and start explaining it's properties while they walked. The night crept on, the moon rose higher and higher and Murphy's legs ached but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Murphy hopped over a rabbit burrow wondering what kind of rabbit would be stupid enough to live in a forest full of magical creatures. Popping the lollie from the dipdap he'd opened a few minutes before back into his mouth and sucking off the sour sugar coating before he was shoving it back into the small packet and swirling it around, trying to get more sugar onto it. His head snapped up suddenly when he saw something moving from the corner of his vision. He squinted, trying to see better through the dark. He stumbled to a stop, searching the tree line, he wondered if it was another thestral.

“Murphy, get a move on.” Nyko said, marching past him.

“I think I saw something.” Murphy said, eyes not moving from the tree's. He heard the shuffle of feet behind him as the other's made there way over to him. Murphy jumped, barely holding back a scream as fingers jabbed into his side.

“Reckon it's a werewolf?” Bellamy giggled. Murphy slammed his elbow back into the boys chest, shifting further away from him.

“Of course not. Werewolves howl.” Murphy said. Blinking a few times and then trying to refocus.

“Maybe it's-” Murphy's vision finally locked on the creature when it moved again, deep in the tree line. There were too many legs, too many eyes glinting with the faded lantern lights leaving the breath rushing out of Murphy's lungs in an instant. The dipdap packet fell from his hand, hitting the floor with a rustle.

Murphy opened his mouth, ready to call for Nyko, to ask if he knew there was a spider the size of a horse stalking them through forest but then it started moving again. This time straight towards them, or more, him. Legs scuttling horrifyingly fast like it had come straight out of every arachnophobics nightmare. Murphy had a brief flash of watching eight legged freaks with Mbege, the way one of the large spiders had propelled itself off of the floor and straight on top of a person and this one was easily double the size of most of those spiders

A scream of terror pulled itself out of Murphy's throat as he stumbled backwards, legs catching against twigs and large spiderwebs he now knew the origins off. He would have been embarrassed about his scream, were it not from the shrill answering shrieks from all around him as other people noticed the beast streaming towards them. He grabbed the nearest thing to him, shoving it in front of him, more than ready to run and leave everyone for dead.

A flash of white light swept past Murphy's head, lighting the way to the giant arachnid, lighting up it's many eyes in an eerie glow before it slammed into it. Sending the spider stumbling back. It righted itself, legs scuttling around and twitching across it's body as if checking everything was still there before it turned back to them.

“Incarcerous.” Nyko said quietly, Murphy watched in awe as ropes flew at the spider, hugging round it, locking the many legs together the beast tipping to the floor, it hit with an audible rumble that made Murphy feel sick. It's twitched and writhed beneath the ropes. Clicking away with it's pincers.

Jasper shot Murphy a harsh glare from in front of him. Murphy gave a small shrug, not at all sorry for pushing the boy into the creatures way.

“Anyone ever seen a acromantula up close before?” Nyko said. He got no reply, the group still staring in horror. Murphy felt pathetically faint. “Well, Shall we go have a look? They're interest-”

“No. Nope fuck that.” Murphy croaked, shaking his head and backing away.

“Can we leave now?” Wells asked.

“I want to see it!” Monty blurted.

“No!” Jasper bellowed. “Monty it will eat you-”

“Come on then kid.” Nyko said, moving over to the acromantula, Monty followed close behind looking far to excited to be considered normal. Murphy, despite feeling his skin crawling and wanting to run far far away from the forest and never look back, found himself creeping after them as if possessed, eyes on the spider.. Shaking off Miller's hand on his arm as he inched closer to where the two crouched over the spider. Nyko's wand lit up like a torch as he pointed out different bits to Monty.

“People often mistake these for the fangs but there not. They're called pedipalps.” The man his wand near the aforementioned appendage.

The spider was easily as big as a car, the hair on it's long legs thick like a horses.

“Can I touch it?” Murphy had said before he'd even realised it. Nyko turned to him with an eyebrow raise.

“If you want.” He said slowly. “But be careful, their venoms pretty potent and these ropes won't keep her down for long.” Which, really, should have made Murphy turn around and run the hell away but instead he found himself reaching out, fingers trembling as he poked gently at a long leg. It twitched violently, tugging against the ropes. Murphy stroked his fingers down the rough hairs, watching as the spider shivered. “That's enough.” Nyko said. Murphy quickly pulled his hand away again, stepping back with a sheepish smile.

“It's disgusting.” He said happily. “Mbege would wet himself.”

“You almost did.” Bellamy mumbled.

“This the biggest one in the forest?” Monty asked.

“Probably close too.” Nyko said. “You'll learn about them in third year if you take my class.”

“What class is that? Big arse spider 101?” Murphy said.

“Care of magical creatures.” Nyko said. Shooing them back over to the main group. “And she's an acromantula, not a 'big arse spider'. Now stand behind me while I let her go. If I lost another student I'd probably get fired.”

“Another?” Jasper gasped.

“He's kidding...right professor?” Clarke said. Nyko raised an eyebrow that really could mean anything. Murphy dutifully stepped behind him, peering back round to watch as he let the ropes break and the spider scuttled back to it's feet. Nyko shot more spells, splattering them around the beasts feet making it stumble backwards. After a moment it turned, disappearing into the trees within seconds.

“Think you've seen enough of the forest for one night?”

“No.” Murphy said, thinking of all the tracks they'd seen, what if they could find a centaur, would it let Murphy touch it? “Is it true there's-”

“I wasn't actually asking. It's late, you have classes in the morning and we don't want to risk her coming back with her brothers and sisters.” and well, even the thought of touching a centaur wasn't worth the idea of coming face to face with an army of acromantula.

“So..Third year for the creatures thing” Murphy asked. Nyko's lips twitched in a smile, patting Murphy on the back, giving him a light push forcing him to start following the others, already picking their way carefully through the tree's on shaky legs.

*

“You know you owe me freddo's and a chomp right?” Bellamy said as the group slunk back across the viaduct. Murphy's heart was still racing from the trip into the forest. “You screamed”

“There was a giant spider sprinting at me. Of course I screamed, so did you.” Murphy said.

“Yeah, but you screamed first.” Bellamy said.

“And the loudest.” Clarke said.

“And the highest.” Miller pointed out. Murphy flushed.

“I think I win. I touched the big ass spider and I was the last to leave the forest.”

“Yeah because you tripped just as we left.” Monty said.

“Is this pick on Murphy night?”

“No of course not.” Wells said.

“But that does sound nice. Maybe we should make it a weekly thing? It'll be like a book club.” Monty said. Murphy rolled his eyes putting the finger up at him behind his back as they made their way back to the castle. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :D I hope you like it.  
> Comments and kudos are as always much appreciated


	6. Fathers

Soon enough everything became pretty..normal. Sure, it was still magic, and each new spell was exciting, left Murphy grinning when he finally got it down but Murphy found himself looking at it more like school. He'd sit through classes waiting to be freed, whether it be to lunch or for a break sitting by the lake watching Wells and Bellamy argue. Although, unlike school in the muggle world he rarely fell asleep in classes, only doing so when he was stuck in History of magic, a subject that, in all fairness was actually interesting but when a literal dead man was the one teaching it who had a voice so boring and drawling that Murphy could feel himself slowly slipping off towards the light just as a release from the constant monotonous sound, it was hard to actually enjoy it. His homework would also be handed in on time.

He hated to think what his friends would think of him not only doing his homework, but doing it quickly and in study groups. Monty was the only one who seemed to know what was going on in herbology so would take them through it. Murphy and Wells were usually the first ones awake. Wells joining Murphy at the Slytherin table to coach Murphy through the history of magic he missed while Binns sent him to sleep. Apart from that, it seemed they were all on fairly even footing. Miller knew a few more defensive spells than anyone else but still, the difference in skill was barely there leaving them all spending nights in the library working dutifully on their homework. Or more, most of them would, he and Jasper more often than not ended up handing there's in with the ink still wet having finished it in a hurry the morning before it was due after spending the study sessions arguing the finer points of which teacher would kick which other teachers arse in a duel.

Then again, considering the fact Mbege hadn't even questioned why Murphy had dropped out of the secondary school he was meant to go to and whisked off to a boarding school in Scotland only contacting him via hand written messages done in quill and delivered by owl, maybe Murphy wasn't giving him enough credit and Mbege simply wouldn't give a shit that Murphy had become a somewhat decent student. The letters to Mbege were hard to write, not because he missed him desperately and got struck with a painful slap of homesickness each time he wrote his friend but because trying to figure out what he could tell Mbege and the others about his life at Hogwarts was strange.

Mbege would write about the teacher's he didn't like, or the stupid jokes people made in biology. The fact the book they were reading in English had a sex scene in it and Murphy would..try to figure out how to write 'today I learnt how to cast a cheering charm' without giving away the fact he was actually a wizard. His letters generally ended up being short, a few lines about his new friends, a few lines about the good food, replying to whatever Mbege had said. Asking how Dax and Atom where before he was quickly cutting it off, tying it to an owl's leg to be delivered.

He wrote once a week and Mbege would reply generally two days later, the owl dropping a box of sweets and gag gifts that Murphy was one hundred percent sure he, Dax and Atom were stealing from the local pound shop. What the Owl was doing while waiting for Mbege to reply Murphy really wasn't sure but he wouldn't be surprised if by the end of the year Mbege had adopted the stupid bird.

Murphy dutifully ignored the fact his mother had yet to reply to a single one of his letters. He knew she was alive, Mbege would mention her from time to time simple 'saw your mum today' notes scribbled at the very bottom of the paper as if he wasn't sure whether or not to put it there at all.

Flying was, without a doubt, Murphy's favourite lesson. Something Mbege wouldn't believe, Murphy may be able to run at a full sprint for god knows how long to escape shop security guards and beat cops but he exercise and physical activity had never been something he was excited about. It was without a doubt the best physical education Murphy had ever taken part in, which in all fairness, could have something to do with getting to sit down most of the time.

Charms was a close second, perhaps because Wick was a narcissist with fairly lame jokes that made Murphy snort with laughter. Then potions which was quickly becoming one of his best subjects mark wise.

For what felt like the first time in Murphy's life time was flying by, the days weren't drawn out by he nagging anxiety while he watched his mother drink herself into an early grave, or spent bartering for money from the drunken idiots she bought over. He didn't have to clean, or cook, or worry really about anything apart from just getting his school work done and not punching anyone. Murphy was happy. He had friends, teachers who had never been found on a porn sight, a giant comfortable bed and cooked meals that didn't come from a can or carton.

In fact, the only thing Murphy found himself missing about the muggle world was youtube, Murphy could only thing of two things that could make the experience better. Number one – If the wizarding world had realised Bench ball could be an exciting game when it was raining. And Number two – If he could have Mbege be there as well, or at the very least actually tell him about the life he was now living.

Murphy had even managed to find time for his self, or, close enough at least. Nyko letting Murphy feed the Thestrals that would apparently be used to pull the carriages they would take from the train to the castle next year.

They were still creepy looking, even more so in the day, when sunlight would shine through their flimsy looking wings, the knobs of bones sticking out beneath leathery skin but Murphy grew to quite like them and they're strange appearance.

Before Murphy knew it almost two months had past, the end of summer had rolled by and Autumn had swept in with a cold brush of wind that shook the leaves from the whomping willow in one quick blast.

Murphy hunched over the library table, shoving a handful of fizzy cola bottles into his mouth, cheeks puffing up, sucking in the drool as it tried to explode from his mouth from the sudden assault of sour sweets and far too many of them for him to reasonably hold in his mouth. Still Murphy soldiered on, chewing away despite his aching jaw peering down past his extended cheeks at the book on the table.

He looked over the same line for what must have been the hundredth time. The words seeping into his brain then straight back out the other side leaving him groaning past the sweets. Herbology homework without Monty was like trying to climb Everest without oxygen – a ridiculous idea and anyone who says they enjoyed the experience was a lying liar who lied. Not to mention a moron for trying it in the first place.

Murphy looked around the empty table glumly. Clarke, Miller, Wells and Bellamy had been vacant since Murphy woke up. Murphy was just happy that he'd finally gotten the hang of taking Miller's barrier down otherwise he would have been trapped on his bed all day, on second thoughts, perhaps he wasn't that glad about it after all. And Monty and Jasper, well, they'd been around until lunch time, when Jasper had tried to cast a cheering charm on Murphy that had somehow backfired hitting both Jasper himself and Monty, leaving them rolling across the floor, gasping with laughter, tears in their eyes until they were almost blue in the face, at which point a drawn looking Abby had rushed over and whisked them away to the hospital wing. That was over two hours ago and now Murphy was bored. He'd been bored since Monty and Jasper had be carted off to the hospital wing.

Murphy tapped his quill against the desk, sucking in a breath past the sweets making an awful slurping sound as he did.

“Murphy! There you are.” Murphy's head snapped over, a grin creeping onto his face making it more distorted. Wells came to a sudden stop, Bellamy crashing into him from behind at the two's eyes widened.

“What the hell are you eating?” Bellamy gasped.

“cowabowtos.” Murphy gabbled. The two looked between each other, both shaking their heads when they realised neither of them knew what the hell Murphy had said. Murphy snapped his jaw down as he could, chewing aggressively through the small continent of sweets invading his mouth. He gave a few rough swallows, the two boys still looking at him in horror.

“Cola bottles.” Murphy repeated once he'd swallowed them all, panting slightly from the effort, hand coming up to rub at his jaw.

“How many?”

“Like fifteen or so.” Murphy guessed with a shrug.

“You're disgusting.” Bellamy said. Murphy chose to ignore that comment. Turning instead to look at Wells.

“So where have you guys been all day?” Murphy asked, trying, and failing, to sound like he didn't care.

“Clarke's missing.” Wells said. “We need your help.”

“What?”

“Clarke's missing.” he said, slower. “We need your help to get into the Slytherin common room to see if she's there.”

“I'm sure she's just skiving. It's one day she'll be-”

“Her dad died.” Bellamy said bluntly.

“Two years ago.” Wells added.

“Two years ago today.” Bellamy amended. Murphy resisted the urge to grab another larger handful of the sweets Mbege had (most likely) stolen for him and shove them in his mouth so he couldn't talk.

“Well..that seems like a good reason to skive.” Murphy said slowly, tapping his quill against the table, leaving small smudges of ink in it's wake.

“Clarke doesn't ditch school.” Wells said stiffly. “She had a fight with her mum last night, she's upset and then she wasn't there this morning and-” And Murphy knew all about dead fathers and fighting with his mother.

“Alright. Fine.” Murphy grumbled. “What am I meant to do then?”

“Just get us into the Slytherin common room.”

“Because there's so much danger lurking there right.” Murphy snorted.

“This is serious. She's heartbroken.”

“Yeah, Whatever, lets go.” Murphy sighed, grabbing his herbology book and shoving it into his bag. He picked up the bag of cola bottles next, popping a few more into his mouth as he started walking.

Wells was buzzing with nervous energy by the time they made it to the dungeons. Murphy shooed them away childishly as he whispered the password. He walked in, the other two rushing in behind him, shoving him out of the way so they could spin around like headless chickens looking for a head of blonde hair Murphy had been able to tell wasn't there within 3 seconds of opening the door.

“Whoa whoa whoa! What are you doing letting them in here?” A boy growled, standing up from the sofa, leather creaking beneath him. His friend, a pretty girl apart from a pair of too large ears followed him up.

“We're looking for a friend.” Murphy said with a shrug, dropping his bag onto the arm chair. “You see Clar-”

“This is the Slytherin common room.” The girl sneered.

“You skills of deduction are astounding as always..” Murphy drawled. He turned back to Wells and Bellamy. “She's not in here and we can't check the girls room so-” Wells clicked his tongue, looking around again as if Clarke were about to pop out from behind one of the seventh years.

“Thanks for letting us in.” Wells said sadly.

“Now leave.” The boy snapped. The three ignored them.

“She could be in the astronamy tower?”

“We've looked there.”

“People can move Bellamy.” Wells snapped.

“Fine..Maybe Miller's found her already.” Bellamy sighed. “Let's go.

“Or maybe he's lost.” Wells said, following Bellamy towards the door.

“Yeah walk away.”

“Idiots..” Murphy breathed, stomping after his friends. He'd much rather go find something else to do for a few hours than deal with those idiots alone.

“Shouldn't even be in this house anyway. Think the sorting hats getting too old. Fucking mudblood.” Murphy was ready to let it slide. He'd read about what it meant, flicked through book after book on the fight against voldemort. He knew that the term was a disgusting derogatory one but well, it didn't really bother him. Maybe because he hadn't grown up in this world, the words sounding more like a stupid insult a toddler would throw at the sandpit rather than something that actually hurt his feelings, perhaps it was because Murphy had pretty much been called every name under the sun by his own mother and so insults had begun hitting less and less. Or, perhaps, it was because he'd somehow seemed to land himself as friends with three people from some of the most prestigious pureblood families of their generation and they didn't care what 'blood' he had so insults from idiots he didn't even know the names of muttered behind him just rolled off his back without much of a care. From what he could tell if you had a Miller, a Griffin and a Jaha on your side you were next to untouchable.

However, it could also be the fact that so far the only times he'd had the word thrown at him it had been by a group of older kids that he knew he wouldn't be able to fight and he had been quite enjoying not getting beaten up for the past few months.

Murphy could see when the words hit the boy boys in front of him though, the way their shoulders suddenly tensed, their footsteps faltering to a sudden stop. They turned on their heels in almost perfect sink. Angry gazes falling on the seventh years behind Murphy.

“What the fu-”

“Bellamy.” Wells said gently. “I got this.” And then Wells was marching right back past Murphy towards the towering seventh years. “I think you meant muggle born.” He said, puffing up his small chest and glaring the male down like he didn't have a good two foot on Wells.

“No, I definitely meant mudblood.” The boy said easily, smirking down at Wells.

“You're an idiot.” Well said bluntly. “Wars have literally been fought over this and both times the people on your side lost. You think that you'd just get over the damn bigotry and learn by now. But apparently not. The thing is though. We did learn not to put up with morons like you, because unfortunately you just keep growing when left unchecked. So how about this, you apologise or I'll go to the headmaster and tell him that you're using derogatory terms that can result in expulsion.”

“That's a bit-”

“No, really. I'm sure my father would be more than happy to listen to you to explain why you think you're justified saying something like that to another student at this school. Especially one his son happens to be good friends with” Wells said.

“Chill Jaha, we were just screwing around, no need to get your dad involved.” The girl said, raising her hands in defeat.

“Have to admit though, the hat must have screwed up. People like him aren't meant to be in Slytherin.”

“Actually, considering how rare it is for muggle borns to be put into Slytherin the ones who do get put in pretty much exemplify the traits Salazar wanted Slytherins to have and unlike you two, Murphy couldn't just ask to be put in in fear of shaming the rest of his family when he got put into a 'lesser' house. Murphy getting in pretty much proves that muggle born or not he'll always be more a slytherin than either of you two.”

“Tap me in.” Bellamy asked almost giddily.

“Yep.”

“You wanna run.” Bellamy murmured

“What-” Bellamy, with all the strength that an eleven year old could muster dived up and forwards, slamming his head into the boys jaw with a crack that had the older Slytherin stumbling back with a cry of pain, blood already spilling past his lips from a no doubt horrific tongue bite. Murphy had never been more sure that Mbege, Dax and Atom would quite like Bellamy if he were ever unfortunate enough for them to meet. 

Wells let out a yelp-like scold. Grabbing the still shell shocked Murphy's wrist and yanking him out of the common room. Murphy's feet took over then, propelling himself forwards, chasing Wells through the winding tunnels of the dungeon, Bellamy rushing after them booming a loud laugh.

Murphy wondered when exactly Bellamy had become close enough to him to headbutt a guy on his behalf, or when Wells had decided that Murphy was worth pulling the 'I'll tell my daddy' card.

The two left him once they were sure they elder Slytherin's weren't following, resuming their hunt for Clarke while Murphy trudged outside, not wanting to return to the Slytherin common room just yet. Technically _he_ hadn't done anything wrong, but he was fairly sure if he walked back into the common room right now without back up he'd quickly break his 'not getting beaten up' streak.

*

Really, Murphy hadn't meant to find Clarke. He'd meant to feed the thestral's, grabbing a bucket of raw meet from Nyko and trudging away to the clearing they seemed to live in but when he got there not only where they there as they always where but there was also the familiar head of blond hair that had been missing from the common room, bowed over, cradled in her hands as he back shook in sobs.

Murphy held back the loud groan that threatened to break out. The Threstral's noticed him, perking up and beginning to inch closer.

“You know you're sitting amongst a herd of like...30 thestrals right?” Murphy said, stomping across the hard packed ground. Clarke's head snapped up, red rimmed eyes landing on him before flickering around the clearing blindly.

“I am?” She croaked.

“You are. There's one laying next to you actually. If you put your hand out like a foot you'll touch it.”

“Why are you here?”

“I just thought I'd come cover myself in raw meat and wait for the werewolves to come.” Murphy said, dropping the bucket of meat and plopping himself down next to Clarke, the ground was cold, the chill quickly seeping through his robes and trousers. He reached into the bucket grabbing a lump of meat and tossed it forwards, it landed on the floor with a small thump before one of the demonic looking horses dove upon it, tearing into it happily. “Or, you know, I was coming to feed the Thestrals that you're sitting in the middle of like I do every week.” Murphy said with a shrug.

“You feed them every week?”

“Nyko promised to let me ride one if I do it until I start taking care of magical creatures.”

“Right.” Clarke said, sniffling.

“You know Bellamy and Wells are looking for you. Miller is too, or was, I don't really know where he went, they never did say.”

“I'm fine.”

“Well that's bull.” Murphy said bluntly, tossing a few more lumps of meat from the bucket. He shifted uncomfortably as Clarke's eyes brimmed with tears once more, they were streaming in seconds leaving Murphy unsure of what to do. Comforting drunk crying people he could do, but people crying for real reasons, well, that he wasn't really sure of.

“They said your dad died two years ago.” He said matter-of-factly. Clarke sucked in a harsh breath.

“You insensiti-”

“Mine did too” Murphy said quickly, as if that made it all okay. He shifted again, letting out a low groan. “Not two years ago but..yeah. He-” Murphy clanked his foot against the bucket leaving Clarke frowning at me. “Kicked the bucket, went into the light, took the stairway to heaven.” Murphy clarified. “I'm not good at this.”

“Obviously.”

“I just..I get it.”

“When did he die?”

“I was six.” Murphy said, voice catching for a moment, he cleared his throat, scrubbing a finger across his top lip. “It..It's get better, after around the three year mark I didn't want to throw up every time I thought of him so..you know, progress.” Murphy said with a shrug. Clarke watched him intently and Murphy wondered if she was even listening, or if she was just using Murphy talking as a way to distract herself from whatever horrors were going on in her head. “It's why I can see the Thestrals.” Murphy admitted.

“I wish I could see them.” Clarke said quietly.

“No, you don't.” Murphy said. “They're cool but believe me it's not worth it.”

“What did you see?”

“Too much.” Murphy said with a bitter smile, feeling the bile working it's way up his throat, he stood quickly. Grabbing the bucket and launching the rest of the contents across the floor. “You should go be with your mum. Or at least your friends. Pushing people away isn't the way to feel better. You just get trapped. Start ruining the lives of the people around you while you're too busy ruining your own to notice.” Murphy said. “But..you know..your choice. I'll let you..cry..in peace.” Murphy finished lamely.

“Does it really get better?”

“Eventually. I think it's always going to suck but..you know, it sucks less after time.”

“Eloquent.”

“Shut up, I'm really not very good at the comfort thing.”

“I know.” Clarke said softly. “It's nice.”

“It is?” Murphy asked, bemused. Clarke snorted a wet laugh, tears still dripping down her face.

“Will you stay? For a bit?”

“I guess somebody should make sure you aren't trampled by invisible horses.” Murphy hummed, sitting back down, he tapped his foot against the frost bitten floor peering through his hair at Clarke, still hunched over and crying but somehow looking happier than she was when he arrived.

Murphy got that though. He remember when Mbege had found him in a similar state, how having someone who didn't know everything yet had somehow made it easier for him to deal with it. Made the grief in his chest dull ever so slightly.

“You want me to talk or..” Clarke gave a short nod. “What about?”

“Anything.” Clarke mumbled.

“Classes today were pretty boring so you should be glad you missed them.” Murphy said. “I mean, maybe the situation as to why you skipped sucks but the fact you did, definitely a good move on your part. I would have joined you if I knew we'd be sitting in a cold wood crying about dead fathers. This is far more fun than class.” Murphy ranted nervously.

“Maybe less about the dead fathers.” Clarke grumbled.

“Right. Of course. Well, Jasper and Monty are in the hospital wing from a very botched cheering charm. Miller is off God knows where looking for you. Wells threatened to tell his Dad on a seventh year who called me a mudblood and then Bellamy head butted the guy and I managed to fit 17 cola bottles in my mouth.”

“So it's been a pretty boring day?” Clarke joked weakly.

“Extremely dull.” Murphy said with a sage nod.

“We should go find Miller before he freezes shouldn't we?”

“Definitely, boy may be smart but when it comes to directions he has the memory of a goldfish. He's probably back in London by now.” Murphy said, Clarke let out a laugh.

“Let's go then.” Neither of them made any move to leave despite Clarke's word, Murphy leaned back, making himself more comfortable against the hard floor. Clarke wrapped her cloak tighter around herself.

“So...Did I ever tell you about how I learnt to ride a bike?” Murphy started. Clarke turned to him, lips twitching in a brittle smile as she shook her head, eyes shining with hope as if Murphy's stupid story would make all the pain go away. Murphy cleared his throat, preparing to dive in. Maybe it wouldn't make it go away but Murphy would be damned if he didn't try.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE NO IDEA'S FOR FIRST YEAR!! SHENANIGANS


	7. Homeward bound

 

Murphy wouldn't really say his and Clarke's relationship changed after there little talk with the thestrals, where Murphy had talked until his throat was raw with stupid stories about his friends back in the muggle world but they were, he thought, closer.

When, the next week she'd asked to come feed the Thestral's Murphy had begrudgingly agreed, figuring one week would be all it took for her to get bored. But she didn't, each time Murphy would go to feed the thestrals she'd be there, tagging a long next to him and watching with a small smile. He wondered what it looked like to her, whether the meat disappeared as they ate it or if it vanished to her once they touched it. Sometimes she'd talk, breathing stories about her dad with a pain expression that made Murphy's stomach twist because he knew the pain all too well, the way you wanted to talk about them, to help them be remembered but the words held too much weight, choked you and begged to stay hidden deep inside because it was easier. Murphy didn't tell her stories of his own, but he'd think of them, think of maybe one day actually saying them. He'd talk about his grandfather though, it was easier, didn't leave quite such a sour taste in his mouth. Didn't bring on the thoughts of his mother back in London. Feeding the Thestrals and listening to bittersweet stories of dead people became their thing, a dead dads club if you will, not a particularly fun group to be a part of but in some way Murphy liked it. Liked having someone who at least partly understood it.

It made him feel more like he fit in with the group. They all had know each other before Hogwarts, all but Murphy and feeding the thestrals with Clarke, it felt like another way of fitting himself into the group. Like he was slowly cementing his place there. He liked the routines he'd grown to have with the other's as well, even if it meant he had next to no alone time. After astronomy he, Monty and Jasper would sneak into the kitchens to dig into whatever the house elves gave them. They'd talk about muggle games that Jasper had introduced Monty to, the ones Murphy thought Jasper should show Murphy next time they were anywhere near an Xbox.

By November Murphy had learnt to put up the barrier himself but he and Miller would still wait for the other students to sleep, chatting quietly amongst themselves. When they did go to bed Miller would check the barrier for him, pressing a hand against it and smiling when it bounced back before going to his own bed.

He and Bellamy competed in Potions and Defence the dark arts. Betting on the sweets Mbege sent him for who would get the better mark on a homework. They'd talk about the muggle world in a way the others didn't understand, not even Jasper and Monty.

When he and Wells met at the Slytherin table in the mornings nine times out of ten they would end up arguing over which was better, the muggle or the magic. Topics such as Pen versus quill and Orange juice versus pumpkin juice were revisited often and although Murphy was one hundred and ten percent sure he was right Wells would not back down.

He knew they were all stupid things, meaningless to most, just what friends do but to Murphy they felt like security. They calmed him in the knowledge that if they did want to cut Murphy out of their lives it would be a lot harder now that Murphy had his little rituals with each person. Made him smile knowing that slowly stories were forming the involved him. When Clarke would say 'me and Murphy saw' or Bellamy would say 'remember the time Murphy blew up a cauldron.' Which, had actually been Bellamy's fault but the man wasn't backing down on his stance that he was blameless in that fiasco. He felt needed. Important. Like if he weren't there he may actually be missed.

It wasn't long before the holidays were looming and Murphy's new routine was being shook to the core by almost everyone in the castle leaving.

“Jaspers spending Christmas with us this year.” Monty said. Murphy refused to roll his eyes as he heard the slap of their palms as they high fived. He'd heard more than a few times the past week. He crossed out a line on his last piece of defence against the dark arts homework of the winter term, wishing the group would stop rehashing their plans and leave Murphy in peace to do the stupid essay he had to write.

“What about you?” Murphy looked up as he felt a soft kick hit his leg. All eyes had settled n him. Watching curiously. Murphy was fully aware that he'd been avoiding the topic of his own Christmas plans and he'd planned to keep it that way, but judging by the prying eyes that ship had sailed. He gave a small shrug, moving to chew on the end of his quill, no doubt leaving ink stains on his lips.

“No fancy party for me.” Murphy said. Referring to the ministry part Wells, Clarke and Miller would all be attending. “Might stay here actually.” The words were tentative, despite the fact he'd made up his mind a few days before. He was quite looking forward to curling up with Clawdia and spending a few days alone in the dorm room. Perhaps he'd try some harder spells when there would be no one around to laugh at him when he failed.

Christmas was a big affair at the Murphy household. A time for the local drunks to stumble into Murphy's home once they'd been kicked out of their own places. There would be drinks and dancing to music blaring out of speakers that crackled. The voices from around the room would be raised, for once not in anger but general merriment, the adults would attempt to sing Christmas carols that made Murphy's ears bleed and it was nice. In a weird way, his mother wasn't screaming at him and the fairy lights would blink sporadically, Christmas cheer was spread around.

Another part of him couldn't help but think of his father though, when he'd be curled into the very corner on the sofa and look at the Christmas tree with too many decorations his mind would go back to when he was younger. When the three of them would decorate it together. Cleo holding a tiny Murphy up so he could launch golden streamers at the tree and Alex lifting her up so she could place the star on the top.

When there would be presents beneath the tree and the people who came over where people he knew, people he cared about. How he'd sit with his granddad playing chess while Alex and Cleo would clean the wrapping paper from the floor.

He'd been safe for months. The only injuries he had normal ones from playing or actually tripping over. He wasn't falling asleep in classes, at least not very often very often, wasn't causing that much trouble, if you didn't count answering back to the teachers. He was happy and he wanted to stay that way, or at least try to.

“How come?” Wells asked.

“Thought it might be interesting, see what a magical Christmas is like.” Murphy said with a small shrug.

“Your mum's okay with that?”

“Yeah. She's going to pick up an extra shift at work.” Murphy lied. “We could use the money, she gets paid triple to take a Christmas day shift.”

“What does she do?” Bellamy asked. The truth was nothing, Cleo was fabulous at sucking the government dry for every last penny they had and then turning that money over to the local off license. Their house was on the council estate, there rent lower than other places in London, thanks to the damp walls that were thin enough to put a fist through.

“Works at an old people's home.” Murphy fibbed. At least, Murphy thought, they were all taking as many drugs as the old aged pensioners in the homes. “She's always liked taking care of people.”

“You sure you want to stay? Won't you get lonely?” Clarke asked.

“I got Clawdia. Now can we get to work. I'd like to finish this homework this year.” Murphy said, flapping his parchment in their faces.

“Bring it, sooner we get the last pieces of homework done the sooner it's Christmas.” Jasper sung the last word and the group dove back into their planned Christmas antics. Murphy dropped his head to the table with a groan.

*

Murphy had just went to the station to wave them off. He hadn't even wanted to do that but he'd been strong armed into it. The goodbyes were just that Murphy waving them off as they hopped one by one of the the train. He turned around with the full intention of returning to the castle and spending the holidays freaking out Mbege by sending as many school owls as he could to him but then as he heard the hoot of the trains horn, warning the students still lingering on the platform that the train was going to leave soon, the reality of spending Christmas alone hit him. He would wake up alone, apart from Clawdia, would have to go down to the empty common room, save for many a couple of other students he wouldn't even know the names of. He thought about listening to the others telling each other about the Christmas break when they got back, turning to him and Murphy having to shrug and admit there was next to nothing he could say. The fact he wouldn't even get a card from his mother unless he was there.

He thought of Thursday nights spent in the kitchen alone, the table two people short. Of Miller not there to talk to before they dropped off to sleep. Of feeding the Thestrals alone, Even of no Wells to argue with about Pumpkin vs Orange juice.

He turned back to the train, shifting his weight.

Maybe Christmas at his wasn't that great, but he'd be able to see Mbege, Atom and Dax. He'd probably get a few quid slipped into his palm from people made generous by Christmas and booze. Clawdia would be okay, the house elves would take care of her, or he could get Clarke to send her owl back to Nyko asking him to make sure she was fed. He didn't want to be alone, not when he'd started getting use to having people around. He moved quickly, darting through one of the few doors that still stood open.

As he pushed his way further onto the train he felt the rumble of the engine, his body swaying as the train started moving.

No going back now.

Murphy picked his way through the corridor. Finding the group before long. Murphy threw open the door to the compartment.

“Move up would you.” Murphy said, shoving Miller down the bench, plopping into the gap he made, he let out a sigh, body rocking with the movement of the train as he picked at his nails.

“You do realise this train doesn't go to hogwarts right?” Murphy looked up at Bellamy's voice, noting all eyes on him with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks.

“Figured it might be nice. To surprise my mum.” Murphy said tentatively. Monty's face lit in a smile.

“I bet she'll love that.” He said happily. The others nodded along in agreement, Murphy squashed down the nagging anxiety in his stomach and let himself nod along.

“Yeah, hopefully.” He said.

*

The train ride had past quickly with the seven of them crammed into their compartment shouting over each other and snacking on the sweets Wells bought from the trolley. The walk home even faster, Murphy stuck in just his fairly thin hoodie and jeans in the cold winter. He'd kept his head down, scuttling through the London streets back to his part of town.

When he arrived at the door it felt too soon, he sucked in a breath, taking his hands from his pockets and knocking swiftly against the door to his home, wishing he'd known he was going to be stupid enough to think this was a good idea so he could have at the very least bought his keys with him. He waited impatiently, shifting from foot to foot, fingers twitching by his sides begging to reach out and knock again. His leg jiggled whenever he tried to stay still. The door opened.

“What?” Murphy blinked at the man standing in his doorway, leaning slowly to the side so he could see the number on the door behind his head. It was right. He leant back slowly, looking each way down the landing, over at the identical estates either side wondering if he'd somehow gotten the wrong one that just happened to have another 17 on it. When he was sure that he did in fact have the right place he looked back to the man.

“I live here.” Murphy said slowly. “I'm Murphy.”

“Cleo's kid?”

“Yes.” Murphy said. The man's face changed from the stern glower, lifting in a smile that was just a little too sharp to really seem welcoming. Murphy had already decided he didn't like him.

“Come on in.” A hand slapped hard against Murphy's shoulder, gripping it a tad too tight making him wince as he was yanked in through the doorway. The man lead him with the hand on his shoulder, kicking the door closed behind him as he manhandled Murphy towards the living room.

“I'm Ryan.” He said. “Your Mums at the shop. Should be back soon.”

“Right.” Murphy said slowly. The house looked the same, dirtier definitely but he expected that, it was usual him who took care of the cleaning. Cans littered the floor, the overwhelming scent of beer and stale smoke told him he was home.

Murphy shoved a bundle of clothes off of the sofa, dropping down onto it and kicking his feet up onto the table, his fingers picking at the hem of his hoodie. He heard Ryan moving around, listened to the scratch of a lighter being sparked.

“Cleo didn't mention you were coming back. She usually tells me anything.”

“Don't feel too bad. She's never even mentioned you before. Not the best at communicating my mum.” Murphy said, lips tilting in a smirk as he looked to the man. The man's dilated pupils landed on Murphy, his own smile twisting into something more sinister. Murphy pushed himself up of the sofa, moving so it was left as a barrier between them. “When'd you say mum would be home?”

“Soon. I heard you have a cat. Where is it?”

“Left her at school.” Murphy said. “Soon isn't a time.”

“I don't know kid. She want to get some dinner and fags. Doubt she'll be much longer. Sit. You want a drink Some food?”

“I'm good.” Murphy said tentatively. Inching back towards the door. “I've got to meet my friends. I'll come surprise mum later.” With that he left, spinning on his heel.

He felt calmer the moment he left the house, the tension easing from his shoulders as he stomped down steps, keeping his hands off the frost bitten rails. He'd try again in a few hours. When there were more people so his mothers high friends didn't try to sustain conversation with him.

He didn't have to meet his friends, hadn't even told Mbege he was coming considering he hadn't even know he was that morning but it wasn't hard to guess where they'd be. It was still early evening and so Murphy doubted they'd be home yet which left only one place that they'd actually hang out. An old fair ground a few streets over. He took off when he heard footsteps echoing from somewhere around the estate.

*

Murphy walked through the alley, hands shoved deep into his pockets sneering at the smell of urine. He could see the run down fairground as he reached the other end. He waited for an old looking car to splutter past before jogging across the road, he ignored the slip of ice beneath his feet and raced down the stairs to the fairground.

In all honest, it probably shouldn't be called that. It had a total of three 'rides', a giant inflatable slide that more often than not was out of commission due to some drunken idiot dropping a cigarette butt on it causing a burn hole, a set of 6 trampolines with gaudy red fence and barbed wire around them to keep the trespassers off them at night and a set of three go karts, There had been six at one point, but two had been broken for god knows how long and one stolen two years before.

But it did have a small cafe and bar along with an arcade tucked in a metal building that's walls rattled when the wind was heavy and a separate public toilet sat on the other side of the fairground, a run down building with more spiderwebs that toilet roll. So it became the perfect place to hang out, especially in the winter months when sitting in the park would just give you frost bite. Murphy made his way into the small arcade.

As he'd hoped Mbege was there, stood next to Atom and Dax looking the same as the last time Murphy had seen them. A can of coke was in his hand that the three passed between them, Murphy watched with a smirk as they took turns subtly kicking at the ten pence machines hoping to knock down some change.

“I leave for a few months and you turn to petty crime?” Murphy drawled. Their heads snapped towards him. Mbege's eyes wide, mouth tilting in a surprised smile. “Move.” Murphy ordered, stepping up to the machine, he leaned back against it, butt resting on the glass, foot coming to sit on the side like he was just dossing around. Murphy waited a moment, eyes flickering to where the owner sat in his little booth, waiting for people to buy something, when he was sure he wasn't looking Murphy lifted his knee before driving his foot back down, sole slapped against the metal with a rattle. Murphy heard the telltale sound of change cascading down from it's ledge. “Honestly, if you're going to be a delinquent at least do it right.” Murphy said, stepping away so Dax and Atom dived for the newly fallen money.

“Good to see you haven't gone soft with them boarding school kids.” Dax said, scooping a handful of 10p's into his pockets and Murphy knew that was it. Murphy's big reunion with his friends after months away came down to a kick of an old gambling machine and a few snarky comments. Not hugs, no tears or excited screams. Just right back into dragging each other.

“Believe me, I know at least 20 new ways to kick your arse.” Murphy said with a smirk, thinking about the wand tucked beneath his jacket. The only thing apart from the clothes he was wearing he'd actually bought back with him.

“I'd like to see you try.” Atom snorted, shoving some of the winnings into Murphy's hand. “How'd you get into that place anyway? Bet it costs a bunch.”

“Got funding.” Murphy said with a shrug. “Apparently I'm gifted.”

“Specials a better word for it.” Dax grunted, slapping Murphy on the back.

“It's good though yeah?” Mbege asked. “Your letters make it sound like your having fun.”

“Letters?” Atom asked. “You send letters? Like, snail mail crap?”

“They don't have phones there.” Murphy said with a shrug. “Or internet.”

“Got an owl to my window holding a letter from him. Almost gave me a heart attack.” Mbege said with a laugh.

“An owl?”

“It's all they have. I chose the nicest looking one as well. This girl Clarke has her own Owl, it's a horned one, it's huge, basically an ostrich.”

“Who has an owl as a pet?” Dax asked. Murphy shrugged.

“Most people there. I use the school owls though. The owlery's full of them, don't see why everyone needs their own. I'm good with Clawdia.”

“the fucks an Owlery?” Atom asked.

“It's where the owls live.” Murphy said bluntly. “There's also a boat house, and a forest. But that's 'forbidden'.” Murphy said with an embarrassed shrug.

“You've been in it right?” Dax prodded.

“Only once.” Murphy grumbled.

“Once? You're loosing your edge.”

“The spiders are huge.” Murphy said with a shiver at the memory of the acromantula.

“Pussy.” Dax said with a snort of laughter.

“You'd piss yourself if you saw them. It was the size of a car.”

“Bet it was a money spider.” Mbege faux whispered. “How come you didn't tell me you were coming back?”

“Last minute decision.” Murphy said with a shrug. The three gave him a 'bullshit' look. “No seriously, I didn't even bring Clawdia. Was seeing my friends off and decided to just come back.” Murphy said noting the disbelieving look on Mbege's face.

“It's good to have you back mate. If we hang here for a bit we can go back to mine. Dad's working the night shift so we can steal his beers.” Atom said with a grin. “Unless you got plans with your mum.”

“I'd like to have plans with his mum.” Dax joked, ducking beneath the slap Murphy aimed at his head.

“Beer or quality time with mother, which one do you think I'll choose?”

“Knew boarding school wouldn't change you.” Mbege said, catching Murphy in a headlock. “Lets go. I need to find someone to buy me some fags.”

The four of them made their way out of the arcade and back into the streets. Mbege pulled a dwindling pack of cigarettes from his pockets and handed one to Murphy. Before long they were loitering outside a corner shop a seemingly homeless man taking their money and going to buy more cigarettes. Murphy looked up at the dark sky as Dax and Atom chatted animatedly. He blew a stream of smoke towards the clouds, wondering what exactly each of his friends were doing.

Clarke and Wells would probably be together, getting ready for the party they were going to. Miller was probably doing the same with no small amount of grumbling and bitching. Bellamy was probably finally spending time with his sister. He wasn't sure what Jasper or Monty would be doing, probably curled up together on a sofa playing the wizard version of an Xbox. Murphy threw the cigarette butt to the floor with a sigh. Moving over to Mbege, rubbing his cold hands together.

“Glad to be back?” Mbege asked. Murphy thought of the warm halls of Hogwarts, the long tables of food and the decorations draped beautifully over every surface, of his plush king bed and Clawdia. He gave a shrug.

“Glad to see you.” Murphy admitted earnestly.

“Gay.” Dax hooted. Murphy rolled his eyes, along with Atom and Mbege, before any of them could retort the man left the shop, handing the cigarettes to Mbege, shoving the change in his pocket with a grateful smile.

“Cheers man.” Mbege muttered. The man nodded, walking off down the street, pocket jingling with the newly earned money. “Your place?”

“My place.” Atom agreed. Taking off down the street.

 


	8. Family affairs

Murphy was never really sure how he felt about alcohol. On one hand, it was the thing that took his mother from a caring woman into a hell bitch, on the other it was the thing that currently made Mbege and Atom dumb enough to be singing and dancing boisterously along to Nsync - Bye bye bye while Dax filmed it on his phone.

The beer was warm and bitter, the room stale with cigarette smoke, Murphy could hear a baby crying next door and a couple screaming at each other in the square bellow the window. The floor boards rocked beneath Murphy's feet as Atom and Mbege jumped around. Murphy's throat burnt from the cigarettes, his clothes stunk of it, a bruise was slowly forming above his eye from where a stray elbow had hit him in the fight for a play station controller earlier. And yet, somehow, Murphy was still happy to be back. A smile pulling at his lips as he watched his idiot friends stomp around. He wondered mutely how the others would react to Murphy's friends. To Murphy, when he was playing the role of council estate kid rather than young wizard. At Hogwarts he was in a different world, at Hogwarts he had opportunities, a whole life stretching ahead of him. It seemed the kids he was friends with at Hogwarts were just that, kids, they were still children with their innocence. They didn't understand that where Murphy came from having friends who knew that when he turned up with bruises they weren't meant to ask why was a good thing. Here they knew the real Murphy, or at least, part of the real Murphy. They were from the world that Murphy grew up in, one where the sound of a bottle being opened meant you should made yourself scarce, that even at their age sometimes wandering the streets of London was a safer option that staying home.

It definitely didn't help that he seemed to befriend the elite of the wizarding world. Clarke and Wells were from well known pureblood families who had enough galleons to live comfortably without working for a good few generations. Same with Miller, although he seemed to show it less that the other. He could imagine their faces if they saw where he lived, or how he interacted with his mum, or even how he and his friends spent their time. Miller would figure it out, he knew that, his lip would twist and he'd probably tell Wells exactly what they got up too so Murphy would get a lecture about life choices but he would fit in easy enough. Monty probably would as well, the kid had enough of a bite to keep Dax off his back and was sweet enough that Atom would probably take him under his wing within moments.

“Never seen you think before.” Murphy was jolted from his daze as Mbege fell beside him on the sofa.

“Fuck you.” Murphy snorted. Looking to where Dax and Atom were fighting over Dax's phone.

“You like school?”

“hu?”

“School, you do like it right?”

“Yeah.” Murphy said, a smile fighting it's way onto his face, a sense of comfort settling into him at the thought of Hogwarts. “It's great.” He saw Mbege's eyebrows raise. “I mean it's school, so it sucks. But, far as school goes. It's good. The food is amazing, and the sports are great.”

“You like sports?” Mbege said dubiously. Murphy laughed.

“Yeah man. They play this game..I guess it's kind of like basketball, mixed with dodge ball and capture the flag. It's..intense.” Murphy said, thinking back to the game he'd watched before the holidays. Of the people zooming around fast as a whip high off the floor, balanced on little bits of wood. “Way better than any of the crap we play here. I'm thinking of trying out for the team next year.”

“Well, you'll have to show us how to play one day.”

And wasn't that an idea, he could just imagine Dax running screaming away from a bludger, Atom screaming in terror as soon as got higher than two feet of the floor. Mbege stuck in the air, trying to figure out how to light a cigarette while flying on a broomstick.

“So what's changed since I was last here?” Murphy asked, Mbege grinned diving into stories about school, the teachers, the fact that Mr Wickers Wife had dumped him for Mrs Peterson. That Mr Johnson had headbutted a kid. They were all stories Mbege had already put in his letters but Murphy didn't mind, it was nice. Listening to him tell them. The way Atom and Dax would jump into certain stories, the way the three of them would embellish them with increasing hilarity. And then they'd waited for Murphy's stories and, well, Murphy couldn't really tell his stories. His stories involved things that he wasn't allowed to tell his friends about. He couldn't say 'this one time in potions class' or 'when we were flying' and so he thought of another topic instead.

“You know anything about this Ryan guy that's apparently staying in my house?” Murphy tried. The three groaned with equal levels of disgust.

“Proper tosser.” Dax said, falling on the sofa practically on top of Murphy, Murphy snorted, shoving him away.

“yeah?”

“Yeah man. Remember Kelly? Her aunt dated him last year. He's real possessive you know, threw her down some stairs before they broke up. He's..you know-” Dax mimed putting a needle into his arm. And didn't that sound fun.

“He dating my mum?”

“You think there's any other reason that bitch would let him stay with her?” Dax laughed.

“That bitch is my mother.” Murphy reminded him stiffly.

“Yeh and she-”

“So. How long you here for?” Mbege asked, loudly. Changing the subject. Murphy shot Dax a glare before he turned slowly back to Mbege.

“Two weeks. You going to Leicester to see the rest of your family?” Murphy asked.

“Yeah. We're leaving at 8.” Mbege sighed tiredly and Murphy didn't really blame them, he'd met Mbege's grandparents and cousins, they were a bunch of snobs with nothing to be snobby over. Living in slightly bigger council houses that Mbege himself lived in but for some reason thinking they were far better.

“Mate. It's 8:30.” Atom said sleepily.

“What?” Mbege yelped. “You're kidding?” The three watched as Mbege scrambled around for his phone, saw the time, and what looked like at least 9 missed calls before he was stumbling around the room, pulling on his shoes and the jacket he'd discarded earlier. The three watched laughing as he rushed around swearing, he ducked into the bathroom only to emerge a second later practically drinking from the toothpaste tube before he gave himself a bath in deodorant that left the room hard to breathe in.

“Fuck I'm so late, Mum and dad are gonna kill me.” Mbege groaned.

“If you wait a minute I'll come with you.” Murphy said. “Tell your mum I was the reason you're late. She's always loved me.”

“No idea why.” Mbege grumbled. Murphy raised an eyebrow as Dax and Atom snorted with laughter. “Hurry up then.” Mbege urged.

“Fine.” Murphy sighed, dragging himself off the sofa. They bid quick farewells to Dax and Atom before shuffling out into the cold. Thin sheets of rain wept from the clouds, cold as ice leaving Murphy tugging his hood up over his head. Hunching in on himself while they walked through dark streets. Mbege pulled out his packet of cigarette's, when they neared his house. Murphy took them and pulled one from the packet before passing it back to Mbege, or at least trying to.

“Keep it, there's only a couple left. Mum would flip if she found it anyway.” Mbege said. Murphy nodded a half hearted thanks, shoving the almost empty pack into his jeans pocket and snatching the lighter from Mbege.

Murphy's cigarette was still smouldering slowly as the two rounded the corner to Mbege's block of flats. He spotted Mr and Mrs Mbege almost instantly, the two huddled beneath the small overhang to the building. The car already pulled up on the curb next to them. Murphy slowed down, letting Mbege rush forwards to meet his parents and hopefully stop them from scolding the boy too much when they noticed Murphy was there.

“You're forty five minutes late” Mrs Mbege snapped. Murphy approached. “and you stick of smoke!”

“That's my bad.” Murphy said, stepping towards them. “Hey Lisa, Trent.” He greeted, bobbing his head in a small nod. He dropped the cigarette to the floor, letting it sizzle out in a puddle after he was sure they saw him with it. “Wind was blowing all the smoke right at him.” Lisa Mbege's face lit in a bright smile as she spotted Murphy and Murphy could practically hear Mbege's internal cheering as she launched herself at Murphy, pushing his hood back and fussing over him.

“Oh it's been months. If we'd known you would be back we would have figured something else out. I know John misses you, is the school nice? Have you made many friends? Do you want to come in for a cup of tea and tell us about-”

“Lisa.” Trent said with a sigh. “We need to go my parents are expecting us.”

“right, right of course.” Lisa said waving her husband off. “You'll be here when we get back though?”

“Yeah, my school's broken up for two weeks so-”

“Perfect. You'll have to come for dinner, do you still eat meat or-”

“Lisa.” Trent snapped. “Let's go.”

“Just send Mbege round to get me one night.” Murphy said.

“Great. Mbege say goodbye to your friend.” Murphy waved as Trent yanked Lisa towards the car, turning back to Mbege.

“Alright. Well bye.” Mbege said casually. He grabbed Murphy, yanking him into a hug before he could protest. Murphy rolled his eyes put quickly returned it, pulling Mbege closer and patting him on the back.

“Merry Christmas man.” Murphy said softly.

“Happy Christmas Murph. I expect a great present.” Mbege said, Murphy could feel his smirk.

“You're getting coal.” Murphy said, shoving Mbege away with a grin. He waited at the curb as Mbege climbed into the car. Watching as it pulled away and disappeared around the corner before he took off.

It didn't take him long to get back to his from Mbege's flat. A few quick jogs through alley ways and he was approaching the estate. He shuffled past a drunken group of teens, ignoring the shouts and keeping his head down. Listened to the different Christmas songs echoing from the buildings as he started climbing the steps two at a time.

He didn't pause this time, didn't take a minute to catch his breath or try to prepare. If felt more like he was home that it had earlier in the evening, a night with his friends throwing him back into the normalcy of this part of his life.

He gave a swift kick at the door, refusing to remove his freezing fingers from their place in his pockets. He waited for the door to swing open.

“You came back.” Ryan said when he opened the door, as if Murphy might have just walked back to Scotland when he left earlier. Murphy gave a stiff grin and let himself get dragged into once again. Ryan steered him into the front room. “Babe, look who's here.”

Murphy shoved his damp hood down. Eyes running over his mother frantically. She looked the same as always. Eyes a bit too glassy, skin pale and waxy. Clothes dishevelled from hours of sitting on the sofa drinking. He frowned when he noticed the end of a bruise poking out from beneath her sleeve.

“Surprise.” Murphy said dryly, pulling his eyes away.

“Why are you here?” Cleo asked. Murphy's lips twisted, he shifted. Ryan's hand left his shoulder.

“It's good to see you too.” He grumbled. “I've had a great time at school. Thanks for asking.”

“You're just in time for some dinner. You hungry?”

“Starving.” Murphy mumbled.

*

Five minutes later and he was sitting on the floor by the coffee table, a plastic pot of microwaved food sitting in front of him. He picked through it slowly, pretending to listen to Ryan as he told Murphy the story of how he and Cleo met, with thigh touches and kisses on the neck that made Murphy glower. He knew all he needed to with a look at Ryan's dilated pupils and the fact that they'd apparently met two weeks before Ryan had moved in.

Murphy had seen Cleo in love. He'd seen it every day with his father, the way her face would soften, the light in her eyes as she'd look at him, the smiles that washed over the room like a warm breeze. Perfect and beautiful. Every relationship she'd had since then had been nothing like that and despite them both proclaiming it as love each time he knew it wasn't true. It was a distraction, it was a drunken mistake that they'd realise in a few days once the passion ran out, or the high, which ever came first.

She'd bring home a new guy from time to time, they would be 'in love' for all of a few months before the arguments started, before the bottles started being thrown at night and eventually it would end with the guys stuff being on the door step when he came back from an alcohol run and the deadbolt slid over so he couldn't get back in.

“Sounds like you're the perfect couple.” Murphy said shoving his mouth full of the food.

“Why are you here?” Cleo said, interrupting Ryan's no doubt thrilling tale of there short relationship. Murphy looked up slowly, shrinking at her angry glare. His lips twitched in a brittle smile. Disappointment rolling through him. He shouldn't have expected anything else but there was still a part of him that had hoped she'd be happy to see him, at least for a minute, that perhaps joy at seeing him would come for a few moments before she returned to normal.

“I didn't want to spend Christmas alone.” Murphy said and god, it felt pathetic, the words tasted sour on his tongue and left his cheeks heated a deep red. “Thought maybe you'd feel the same.”

“I'm not alone. I have Ryan.”

“Of course you do.” Murphy snorted.

“Well, we've all got each other now.” Ryan said. Murphy rolled his eyes, turning back to his food. “How long you back for?”

“Two weeks.” Murphy grumbled. “Don't worry, I won't get in your way.”

“Don't be silly mate.” Murphy buckled as Ryan reached over the table and slapped him hard on the back. “I can't wait to spend some time with you. I plan to stay with your mum for a long time.”

“Delightful.” Murphy hummed.

“I always wanted a kid. It'll be nice to-”

“You're not his father.” Cleo hissed. Murphy's head shot up again, looking between the two trying not to groan. It would be just his luck to get back for the break up.

“I wasn't saying-”

“Don't compare yourself to Alex. Ever.” Her tone was icy leaving the room in a deafening silence. Murphy could see Ryan's jaw working, his hand in a white knuckled grip against the cutlery.

“I told you-” Murphy blocked them out, grabbing his food and retreating as the argument started. He sat on the kitchen counter. Watching the door. The scent of alcohol drifted slowly through the room from the drink Murphy had poured. The moment the argument was over his mother would want it. He may as well be prepared, perhaps earn a brownie point or two.

Murphy closed his eyes with a sigh, letting the angry voices flow over him.

 _So good to be home_ Murphy thought sarcastically, a smirk slipping onto his face. Murphy floated in and out of the argument as they bought up new topics, harsher and harsher insults being thrown.

And then he heard the slap of skin and his eyes were opening. He was off the counter in a moment. Murphy got into the living room in time to watch the two hit the ground. Ryan's hands around Cleo's throat, pushing hard leaving her face red and her fingers clawing against his hands. Murphy watch in horror as he screamed into her face. Told her to 'answer him' as if he wasn't aware of his hands curled so tight around her throat she couldn't breath let alone speak.

“Stop! You're hurting her! STOP!” Murphy screamed. Rushing forwards, he grabbed Ryan's arm, trying to pull him away only to get shoved backwards effortlessly, Murphy fell backwards at the hard push, back snapping against the side of the table leaving him yelping. He got back to his feet, ignoring the burn of pain along his spine from the harsh hit against the wood and moving forwards again. His hands were shaking as he looked to his mum, her mouth gaping open trying desperately to suck in breaths, his ears rang with Ryan's screams, his chest felt too tight, no breath making it past his lips like he was the one being strangled.

“I said get the hell off of her!” Murphy bellowed, tugging at the back of Ryan's top. He yanked so hard he heard it tear, Ryan choked as the collar held tight around his neck.

 _Good_ Murphy thought, twisting the material in his hands to keep it tightening around the mans neck. Putting everything he had into it. Ryan followed as Murphy yanked him back, his hands leaving Cleo's throat letting her suck in a painful breath. Murphy twisted the top again, revelling in the choking sound Ryan made before the man swung an arm back, slamming an elbow into Murphy's nose. He squawked in pain, hands flying up to cover his nose only for his arm to suddenly be grabbed, grip tight enough to make his bones grind. Murphy had a moment to think 'oh shit' before he felt the hit.

The next few minutes were a blur. He could hear his mother screaming, feel the warmth of blood soaking down his face and pain exploding in his ribs as Ryan threw him around like a rag doll. One minute he was being hit and the next Ryan was stumbling, blood leaking from the back of his head from where a heavy vase had catapulted itself across the room and into his head. Murphy could _feel_ the magic thrumming beneath his skin, washing below the surface like waves breaking. Ryan collapsed onto the floor, eyes unfocused as they darted around the room.

“Mum, are you okay?” Murphy asked nervously, looking to the deathly pale woman. She'd moved off her place on the floor, standing watching him, horrified. Her hands were shaking, her throat already blooming in finger shaped bruises. Murphy ignored the pain, pushing himself back to his feet, trying to push down the whimpers as he did. He wasn't sure what he expected to happen when he reached her, but it definitely wasn't a slap across the face. Hard and pointed, catching the edge of one of what was probably many cuts he now held.

“You could have killed him.” _Good_ Murphy wanted to say, not that he got the chance. “Get out.” Murphy didn't bother arguing, she was already making her way over to Ryan, pressing a cloth to the wound on his head with care she hadn't showed Murphy in years. He stood silently, hoping she would forget he was there, wishing he could sink back to the floor and sleep. His head throbbed, blood dripped from his forehead into his eye.

“I said get out!” Cleo screamed suddenly, tossing the blood cloth at him.

“He was going to kill you. I was trying to help-” Murphy hissed.

“Like you helped your father?” Cleo spat.

“That wasn't my-”

“GET OUT!” Murphy flinched at the shrill shriek. Expecting another hit that never came, she took a steadying breath. Her eyes burning with hatred. “Before I call the police and tell them what you did to Ryan.” Murphy ran before she could finish the threat. Heart in his throat.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such drama


	9. Seasons greetings

It only occurred to him when he was cutting through the quiet fairground that he could quite easily have let her call the police. Told them exactly why he fought back and hit him with a pan. He stopped for a breath, shedding his hoodie and bunching it up. Ignoring the sting of the winter air on his arms as he pressed the balled up clothing to his head, trying to stem the blood flow. His nose pulsed with pain, one eye almost swollen shut. His ribs screamed each step making him want to vomit.

Murphy flinched as a cold speck hit his forehead, he looked up to the sky frowning when he saw the small flakes of snow dancing from the sky. He clapped a hand over his mouth as he let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. Sinking to the floor slowly, ducking his head between his legs as he took a shaky breath.

He'd been kicked out trying to help her. He'd gotten his arse kicked trying to help her and then he was the one told to leave. The hand against his mouth pushed too hard against all the cuts leaving pain searing through him but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Pressing harder as if he could force the sobs that wanted to leave him back in. His eyes squeezed shut. Breathing shakily, in, out, in out.

Murphy pushed himself up slowly. Sucking in a few large breaths before he was finally moving again. Walking as quick as he could through the quiet fair ground wishing that the doors to the public toilets were unlocked so he could at least try to clean himself up, or perhaps just look at the damage. He kept going, twisting through alley ways and quiet streets, tears pricking in his eyes and gasps escaping him as he jarred his wounds.

A few blocks later he gave up, flopping to the curb trying to take small breaths to keep the pain in his ribs to a minimum. He was shivering, snow drops fluttered past the street lights, landing in Murphy hair and on his bare arms. He needed to find somewhere to go.

Mbege would be halfway to Leicester to have Christmas with the rest of his family by now so he was out. Atom's dad was a dick and Murphy really didn't want to be anywhere near him when he came back from work. Dax's mum was too nice a woman, she would let him in no doubt, but she was also frog march him to the hospital and force him to talk to the police. Murphy had never understood her, how she would so easily take beatings herself but god forbid if anyone else was hurt. He groaned when he realised he wasn't even sure where exactly anyone from Hogwarts lived. The leaky cauldron was closest, but he had no money for a room. Murphy wanted his bed, not the one at his mothers house, but the one at Hogwarts, to curl up beneath the covers with the safety of Miller's barrier around him. The Hogwarts express wouldn't be at platform 9 and ¾. If he had his own broomstick he could fly there.

Murphy felt his wand jabbing into his side and slowly pulled it out, eyeing it curiously. He'd heard of apparating. It would be useful now, he could go to the gates of Hogwarts. Hell, even an owl would be useful right now. He could send one to Miller, ask him how a boy was meant to walk to Scotland in a few hours, if he knew where abouts in London Bellamy lived so he could at least find somewhere warm to crash for the night. Murphy twirled the wand in his fingers, pressing the hoodie harder against his head, hoping for the pressure to alleviate the pain.

Then a light bulb went off, a bus's light bulb to be exact. An empty single decker crunching across the setting snow. Murphy hunched in on himself as it rocked past, watching mutely as it turned the corner, the headlights slowly fading away. The knight bus.

Wells had mentioned a knight bus on one of his prattling talks of wizard life. Murphy looked to his wand, holding his breath as he slowly stuck it out in front of him.

 _Please_ Murphy thought desperately. He waited, looking up and down the road, biting his busted lip. Nothing. Not a headlight in sight. Murphy waved his wand uselessly. Praying for the bus to turn round the corner. When it didn't Murphy groaned, tears burning in his eyes. He shut them quickly, panic bubbling in his chest.

 _Think think think._ Murphy thought desperately. A loud crack sounded.

“You call for a bus?” Murphy's head jolted up at the teasing voice, almost screaming when he saw a bus sitting in front of him. A man standing at the back peering down at him. His eyes ran up and down the bus. Three floors and painted a deep purple.

“Thank you Wells.” Murphy whispered. He stood up shakily, wiping his free hand across his eyes quickly. Trying to remove any trace he'd been crying.“You go to Hogwarts?” Murphy asked, his voice quivering in a way that made an embarrassed blush rise to his cheeks. He saw the man's eyes widen as he took stock of Murphy.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Can I get on or-”

“Yes! Yes of course, come on. What happened are you-”

“I'm fine.” Murphy grunted, stepping up onto the bus. The man's hand caught him as he wobbled precariously, steadying Murphy gently.

“I'm Jackson. Come sit down.” Murphy let the fussing man lead him into the bus, shoving him down onto a bed- a freaking bed, on a bus – the whole bus seemed to be filled with them. A person was asleep in the one next to Murphy's, snoring away soundly. A chandelier hung from the celling leaving Murphy gaping.“here-” Murphy spun back round to see Jackson holding out his jacket. “You must be freezing.”

“I'm fine. I need to go to Hogwarts. You can get there right? Or at least to the gate?” Jackson nodded slowly.

“Take the jacket kid.” Jackson ordered. Murphy shoved his wand back into it's place before snatching the jacket. He draped it over his legs uselessly. “I'll be back in one second.” Murphy barely noticed him leaving at all. Too busy flopping back against the soft bed, his ribs throbbed in protest leaving Murphy grunting in pain. His arm ached from holding it to his head for so long but he could still feel the warmth of blood seeping from the wound and didn't want to take it away just yet. “We're about to go. It's going to jolt you a bit okay? But we'll be there in a minute.” Jackson said, peering down at him. Murphy gave a stiff nod.

And then the bus was jolting away, so powerfully Murphy's bed moved across the floor and he rolled across it, he lost grip of the hoodie, instead jolting out his arm to hold the bedpost, worried he'd fly straight off. True to Jackson's word the bus stopped no more than a minute later, throwing Murphy across the bed again.

“We're here.” Jackson said. Murphy sat up, peering out the window, a frown pulled at his face.

“This isn't Hogwarts. We're not even out of London.” Murphy said grumpily.

“This is St Mungo's.”

“That suppose to mean something to me?” Murphy snapped.

“It's..You're muggle born right?” Murphy's mouth twisted as he nodded, ready to begin snapping out retorts to any insults that came his way. He wasn't in the mood. Not tonight. “Right, so it's like a hospital. Just..magical.” Jackson said, doing jazz hands at the world magical. Murphy felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. Giving a swift shake of his head that only made him feel sick.

“I don't need a hospital.” Murphy said. “I just need to get to Hogwarts. I can deal with-”

“I'm training to be a healer here and I say you do need a hospital.” Jackson said quickly. “I'll come in with you, it won't take long, then we'll get you back to Hogwarts okay?”

“Not really.” Murphy said stiffly.

“Hey listen to me kid.” Jackson said gently.

“Murphy.”

“Murphy,” Jackson corrected. “If you don't want to talk about what happened yet you don't have to. You want to run away the second they heal you that's..well it's not fine but I'll turn my back and pretend that I don't see It okay? The important thing right now is you get checked out.”

“I just want to go to Hogwarts.” Murphy begged. Jackson did nothing, just waited by the side of the bed. Twitching anxiously, looking like he wanted nothing more than to start putting plasters all over Murphy's face. “You're not going to move the bus till I'm off it are you?”

“No. I'm sorry.” And the poor guy really did sound it.

*

Murphy had to admit, it was nicer than muggle hospitals. More interesting as well, while he was waiting his saw someone who was stuck half way through an animagus transformation, a horses tail sitting through a hole in his trousers, flickering back and forth. Murphy thought he could handle a tail, but the hooves for hands he'd have a problem with. There was no smell of disinfectant and he'd yet to hear a beeping of a machine.

He'd been settled into a private room on the ground floor. A healer in lime green robes had fussed around him. Murphy had to admit she was nice, with sunny blond hair and a sweet smile. She'd asked what had happened and then dropped the subject when Murphy had grumbled and glared for a few moments. Although, that could have something to do with Jackson, still stood beside, him, slicing his finger across his throat telling her to stop as if he knew that if she asked the wrong question Murphy would run out of the door and never look back.

The examination was unfortunately no less painful than a muggle one. Fingers poking at his ribs and prodding the wounds. The only conciliation was the witch was careful, quiet, she would tell him what she was doing and why and make sure he saw her coming. Then she was bustling out of the room promising to be back in a few moments to 'fix him up good and proper like'. Murphy quite liked her.

Murphy shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. Far too aware of the fact he was topless, that the bruises that dotted across his skin were on show for all to see. Jackson was shifting from foot to foot on the spot next to Murphy, casting him nervous glances every half second that made Murphy slowly shrink in on himself wishing he could pull his clothes back on and hide his injuries from the world. He didn't need the pity in Jackson's eyes. He didn't need a damn healer, he just needed a bed and a box of plasters, barring that he could work with some cello tape and toilet roll.

He didn't like the quiet, the way it was slowly drifting his head back to his house. To his mother.

“Why are you working on a bus if you want to work here?” Murphy asked quietly.

“It's a lot better than becoming a doctor but you still have to train, that takes money and while you're training you don't get paid a lot. So I work some nights on the knight bus to pay for everything.” Jackson said, his eyes slid across Murphy bruises chest and ribs with a small frown. “No stitches here either which is lucky for you. You'll be good as new in no time, then I'll get you back to Hogwarts okay?”

“Thanks.” Murphy mumbled, resisting the urge to drop the hand holding gauze to his forehead to his chest to cover the dark splodges. The door banged open and Murphy turned, more than ready to get out of the hospital and back to his dormitory.

Only it wasn't the healer.

“Abby?” Murphy gaped. “Clarke?!” Murphy did drop the gauze then, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “What the fu-”

“Clarke I told you to wait outside!” Abby said stiffly.

“He's my friend.” Clarke said, sticking her chin up in defiance and marching over to Murphy. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“What the hell are you doing here?! Get out! I-”

“Jaha got word from the ministry that you used magic in front of muggles. What happened?” Clarke asked urgently, reaching for Murphy to no doubt start checking over the wounds like a worrying mother. Abby thankfully stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back towards the door.

“Clarke. Outside.” Abby snapped.

“The ministry. Like, the political people?” Murphy asked. “Am I in trouble?”

“No.” Abby said quickly. “But I do need you to explain what happened.” Murphy grit his teeth.

“I..There was-”

“Not now.” Abby said, taking pity on him. “The healer should be back in a second, it can wait.”

*

True to their word it didn't take long at all for the healer to put him back together, the bruises were barely there. His nose and a broken rib had been fixed in a moment of searing pain, the lacerations sealed back together leaving only thin red scars that the healer ensured would disappear within a week. Murphy pulled his bloody clothes back on, leaving the hoodie in the bin. Jackson left once Murphy assured him it was okay and Abby promised to call the knight bus and return him to Hogwarts once Murphy was allowed to leave. Clarke was sent off to get Murphy a hot chocolate when a representative from the ministry of magic showed up with a tight frown and concern in his eyes.

“What happened Murphy?” Abby said gently. He wanted to lie like he'd done so many times before. To say 'I fell' or 'got jumped' some stupid story that no one actually believed but also didn't care enough to question. But Murphy knew what happened to students who did magic outside of school before they were of legal aged. They were expelled, if Murphy were expelled he would be sent back to his mother. To Ryan. The future he was grasping at would be gone in a moment and well, Murphy couldn't do that. He couldn't bring himself to give it up, not even for his mother.

“I pissed off my mums new boyfriend.” Murphy admitted, shifting awkwardly, he wished for the pain back so he'd have something to focus on. The words felt wrong on his tongue, his eyes moved to the door, expecting to see her coming through, telling him to keep his mouth shut or it would only get worse. He swallowed the bile, shifting again, trying to suck in a painful breath his lungs constricting. “I don't know what happened. I was on the floor and he was beating the crap out of me and then a vase just flew across the room and hit him in the head. I know we're not allowed to do magic outside of school.” The ministry official opened his mouth but Murphy didn't let him talk. “But I don't care. I didn't mean to do it and I won't apologise for doing something that probably saved my life. Dude was off it, I doubt he would have noticed if he hit me too hard.” Murphy said stiffly, turning to glare at the ministry official, daring him to punish him. “and it wasn't like anyone was going to stop him.” The last part was barely a whisper, a bitter, hateful admission that left his stomach churning.

She'd done nothing.

“We've already dealt with your mother and Ryan. His memory has been modified. He won't remember it. Your mother however will-” The ministry official said.

“Great.” Murphy said dryly.

“He's a muggle, we can't charge him or your mother for-” He begun, sounding apologetic. Murphy wanted to laugh. It seemed it was the same as muggle hospitals after all. That even telling the truth he still was the kid people didn't care about.

“Am I in trouble or not?” Murphy asked tiredly.

“No.”

“Then can I go back to Hogwarts?”

“Of course.” Abby said. “You don't need anything else from him do you? I'm sure you can set it straight that this is just a normal case of accident magic in an inexperienced young wizard. Nothing to cause a fuss about.”

“Of course.” The man said. “I'm sorry.” He said, looking towards Murphy again as he bid a quick farewell, before scurrying out of the room like he couldn't get away from Murphy fast enough.“Are you okay?” Abby asked gently, inching closer to him. Murphy scooted further away.

“I'm fine.” Murphy snapped. _I'm always fine_ he thought bitterly, scrubbing a hand over the no longer there cuts. “You can't tell anyone.” Murphy tried, praying that she'd agree, he still had Hogwarts, he could still be normal. At least there. If he could keep Clarke quiet. There was a hesitant pause.

“Okay. I won't.” Abby promised.

“I find that hard believe, Clarke already-”

“Clarke heard Thelonious tell me. I told her she couldn't come, but she said 'He's my people' and grabbed my arm as I apparated.” Murphy couldn't help the small smile flickering onto his face at that. “I never meant to bring her, she's lucky she didn't get splinched. I wouldn't tell anyone, not if you don't want me to.”

“I don't....I'm her people, what does that mean?”

“It means your her friend and she cares about you.” Abby said with a grin that faded quickly, back into the worried mother look that made Murphy's stomach squirm. “The ministry can't do anything but if you want to go to the muggle police we-”

“I don't.”

“Murphy.” She sighed.

“I know what I'm doing. I'll be fine. Can we go now?” Abby's lips thinned.

“What he did, what your mother let him do-”

“Nothing happened.” Murphy said tonelessly.

“John.”

“Nothing happened.” Murphy repeated, looking up with a small smirk. “You can't make me go Abby.”

“I can help.”

“No. You can't.” Murphy said. “Ryan doesn't remember right? And look at me, there's barely a scratch on me. S'like it never happened. Couldn't go to the police even if I wanted to, which I don't want to do. Which I'd never want to do because I'm fine.” Murphy said. Hating the sad look in Abby's eyes. “Now. Can I go back to Hogwarts?”

“Of course.” Abby said softly.

A few minutes later he was on the knight bus once more, Clarke squished next to him on one beds while Abby stood at the front, talking to Jackson with a smile.

“Are you hungry?” Clarke asked.

“Starving.” Murphy admitted, turning back to look at Clarke, her head was pillowed on her arms, looking up at him, blue eyes sparkling beneath the candles on the chandelier. She was dressed in a pretty dress and Murphy guessed she must have come straight from the party. He wondered who knew that he'd done 'accidental magic' already. Wells would have heard too. Was probably waiting for an update.

“Mum said we can go to the kitchens when we get back to the castle.” She said softly.

“Aren't you going back home?” Murphy inquired. Flopping back so he could to lie down fully. His head hit the soft pillow with a small thump.

“We only really left to go to the party. Christmas hasn't been the same at home, not since dad-” Clarke broke off with a frown.

“I know what you mean.” Murphy said with a twisted smile, thinking of how he'd use to spend Christmas eve. The way he'd curl in his bed buzzing with excitement, waiting for Santa to come. How his mum would stroke a hand through his hair softly as she'd tell him to get some sleep or Santa wouldn't come and he'd shut his eyes so tight, fully believing in her and the stupid lie of Santa she told. He'd stopped believing in Santa after he'd put 'bring my dad back' as the only thing on his Christmas list and he'd found it tore up on the living room floor next to his passed out mum.

And yet, somehow, He still believed in his mum. Still got disappointed when she failed him because she was meant to be better. She wasn't meant to fade away like the stupid lie of Santa. She was meant to keep going, to keep him believing in her, that she'd protect him. That'd she'd love him.

“Mum said we can stay at Hogwarts this year. I think...maybe Christmas at Hogwarts might be nice, a fresh start.” Clarke said quietly. “A new tradition. For all of us.”

“I think me and Clawdia are going to try that too.” Murphy said dryly making Clarke smile.

“I was including you and Clawdia in the all of us.. Wells will be there too. Jaha likes to spend Christmas with the kids who don't go home.”

“Do the teachers get drunk?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Good.” Murphy said, chewing his lip and letting his eyes fall closed.

He was woken up by Clarke when they got to Hogwarts although barely 15 minutes had passed. He hopped off the bus, Clarke hot on his heels. They waited at the gates while Abby said a quick goodbye to Jackson and paid belatedly for their tickets.

The walk from the gates to the castle seemed to take forever. After that they were taken down to the kitchen. Murphy didn't even bother to pretend that he'd never been there before, just walked in and flopped onto a stool with a sigh whilst Abby asked one of the house elves for something to eat. He didn't try to talk to Clarke or Abby, didn't try to make jokes to prove he was fine. He was too tired for that, just rested his head on his hands and tried to stop his mind from running while he waited for the food to arrive.

Another half hour and Abby had left him and Clarke in the Slytherin common room. Murphy had a sandwich in each hand, shovelling them down despite his already full stomach.

“Night then.” Murphy garbled past the food, stomping up to his dorm room.

Clawdia was curled up on the left hand pillow, her ears twitched, head bobbing up when Murphy entered. Murphy grinned as she mewled loudly, standing up and stretching. Murphy sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, stroking her as she arched into it.

“Sorry for leaving you.” Murphy mumbled. “If it's any conciliation I had a rubbish time and won't be doing it again.” Clawdia purred like she agreed with him.

Murphy dug out the cigarette packet from his pocket, it was crumbled from the nights events, the cigarette he pulled out bent. Murphy bent it back and moved over to the window, lighting the end on a candle before hauling himself onto the bay ledge and pushing the window open. He breathed the smoke out the window sighing, head falling to the side, clunking gently against the cool stone. The lake shimmied around the window, the bubble of air that was somehow there to let them open the window slowly growing smokey.

“You're smoking?” Murphy jumped, almost dropping the cigarette at Clarke's voice.

“What's it to you?” Murphy asked, turning to look at her. She stood in the doorway, clad in silky flannel pyjamas.

“I didn't realise you smoked. You realise it stunts your growth? And-”

“I don't smoke.” Murphy grumbled. “I just..My friends do, back..” Home didn't seem right. “They smoke and I generally do when I'm with them.”

“Why doesn't anyone stop you?” Clarke asked.

“No one cares.” Murphy said. “Not if it's not their own kid. Mbege's folks would beat the shit outta him if they knew he smoked but well.. they don't have to worry about the dumb things I do.” Murphy went silent. Looking back out the window wondering how likely it would be that the bubble would break one day and water would crash into the windows.

“You have more?”

“Just one.”

“Can I try it?” Clarke asked tentatively. Murphy shrugged, nodding towards the packet sitting on the bed. She pulled the bent cigarette out and moved over to him, she lit it on the candle and joined him on his perch by the window.

Murphy laughed as she choked on the smoke.

“Smooth Griffin.”

“It's awful.” Clarke said.

“I know.” Murphy said. “You can throw it away.” She didn't. The two sat, Clarke making face at each inhale and spluttering through the exhales. Leaving Murphy grinning tiredly.

“Why don't you go to the police?” Clarke asked eventually.

“What?”

“About what happened..with your mums boyfriend.” Clarke clarified, Murphy felt his stomach drop out. Wondering when Abby had told her, how long she'd waited before completely breaking his trust.

“Abby said she wouldn't-”

“She didn't. I used an extendable ear.” Clarke admitted bluntly. “The muggle police-”

“No.” Murphy snapped.

“Murphy.” Clarke said quietly. “The day I met you you had a bruise. Did he-”

“He wasn't even around then.” Murphy said stiffly. “That was just-”

“Your mum?”

“Drop it Clarke.” Murphy said stiffly.

“If she's hurting you you need to-”

“I don't _need_ to do anything!”

“Yes you do. Look I'll go with you, or mum will we can-”

“I said no.” Murphy spat.

“It's not safe for you to be there!” Clarke argued.

“She's all I have!” Murphy bellowed. “She's still my mum. She's the one who tucked me in and read me stories, she taught me to swim. When your dad died you had your mum and Wells and Miller. I had no one. Mum wouldn't even look at me. I was at a new school in a new part of town and my dad was dead but she was there and I know she hates me, and god I hate her sometimes but she's all I've got Clarke. She's...it's better than nothing.” Murphy said panting harshly as he finished. He did have his doubts about whether or not that would be true. He was young, could be adorable when he wasn't running his mouth, someone would probably adopt him.

“Is it?”

“I can't loose her too.” Murphy said quietly. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tossed the cigarette butt out the window. He scrubbed a hand across his face. “It'll get better.” Murphy said, he knew he was lying but god he wanted to believe it. “I can get her help. I'm not giving up on her so just drop it. It's my family. It's my problem to deal with, you don't get a say in this.” Clarke stayed quiet, tossing her own cigarette butt out the window and moving to tug at the fraying edges of her trousers.

“I-” Clarke begun.

“You need something or can I get some sleep?” Murphy said, jumping off the ledge and moving over to his bed. Clawdia had retaken her place on the left hand pillow meaning Murphy had to walk around the whole bed so he wouldn't disturb her.

“Get some sleep.” Clarke said, Murphy could feel her eyes boring into his back as he sat down, eyes on the door. “Which one is Millers bed?” Clarke asked. Murphy slid into his bed and jabbed a finger over Clawdia to the bed Clarke was standing by. She nodded and started to climb in.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping in here.” Clarke said, tone holding no room for arguments. “I told you. This is our new Christmas tradition and I was under the impression that to make fun Christmas traditions with people you have to actually be with people.” She snuggled into the quilt. The candle flickered out as if it knew they were both planning on sleeping. Murphy blinked into the dark room. Listening to her lying too still, like she was nervous, waiting to be kicked out. Murphy sighed softly.

“Goodnight Murphy.” Clarke whispered loudly. “Merry almost Christmas” Murphy rolled his eyes.

“Night Clarke.” Murphy grumbled. “Merry almost Christmas.” He waited until her breathing had evened out before he pulled out his wand and quickly put up the warding around the bed. He fell asleep to Clawdia purring next to him and the calming sensation of coming home after too long away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) Probably be an update tomorrow as it's my birthday so i will be busy getting turnt AF (or you know, going bowling with my mum and brother)


	10. The Wick

Murphy woke up on Christmas morning to voices. He raised his head slowly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes trying to focus on the three people sitting on Miller's bed.

“Clarke?” Murphy grumbled.

“Morning sleeping beauty.”

“Miller?” Murphy said, sitting so fast he would have fallen off the bed if not for the barrier bouncing him back into the middle. Miller boomed out a laugh. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Merry Christmas to you to.” Miller said dryly. “He's such a treat in the morning isn't he?”

“Delightful.” Wells agreed, eating a handful of sweets.

“Presents are in the common room. Lets go.” Clarke ordered, hopping off the bed and racing towards the door. Wells leapt up, chasing after her. Murphy blinked after them dazed, slowly turning back to Miller who had his wand out, he waved it vaguely at the bed.

“You mind?” Miller asked. Murphy gave a nod and Miller quickly took the barrier down. He was there a moment later sitting on the bed, practically knocking off Clawdia as he went, she let out a yowl, half heartedly swiping at him before leaping off the bed and sweeping out the room with her fur puffed up.

“Why are you here?” Murphy asked.

“Could ask you the same.” Miller said with a light grin. “Got an owl from Clarke, she said you'd got in some trouble and that you her and Wells would be here for Christmas. My dad got a call out to some raid, I told him to take it, just floo me to Hogwarts first. He's going to try and make it for lunch. Got to say, from the way Clarke put it I thought I was going to find you on your death bed. Not snoring away in a comfy bed.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Murphy snorted. Miller's finger jabbed at one of the lingering red scars on Murphy's skin, right against his temple.

“What happened? Clarke won't tell us what went down.” Murphy's lips quirked into a small smile at that.

“Long story.” Murphy said softly. Mentally thanking Clarke as he slapped Miller's hand away. The boy paused chewing on his lip before he gave a small nod.

“Alright...You're okay though?”

“I'm always okay.” Murphy said with a grin that felt far less forced that the night before.

“Well..I'm here if you're ever not.” Miller said, scratching his cheek awkwardly. The two lapsed into a silence, shifting on the bed.

“Be honest...You came back so you didn't have to eat your dads cooking didn't you?” Murphy joked.

“If I have to eat one more meal that man cooks it may kill me, or I'll kill myself. He made a sponge cake. I think I broke a tooth on it.” Miller sad grimly making Murphy blurt out a laugh. Miller grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “Merry Christmas Murph.”

“Merr-”

“Boys! Come open presents!” Clarke bellowed up the stairs.

“Race you?” Miller said, already taking off. Murphy dove after him. The two clattered down the stairs, shoving each other as they went, no doubt a danger to each other and themselves but they didn't care. Murphy felt good, he was back at Hogwarts. He wouldn't have to think about his mother for at least a few months, his friends were here.

“Careful!” A voice snapped. Murphy stumbled to a stop, blinking dumbly at Thelonious Jaha, standing in the centre of the Slytherin common room, dressed in a silky pyjamas. He blinked around the room, as if the headmaster would disappear and blinked when he spotted Abby, sitting on the plush leather sofa wrapped in a fluffy looking dressing gown.

“Uh-” Murphy hummed.

“Morning Mr Jaha.” Miller said politely. Shoving Murphy forwards. “We heard we were opening presents?”

“Of course.” Jaha said with a smile. “Come sit.”

The presents were all piled beneath a tree that Murphy knew for a fact hadn't been there the night before, it was tall with forest green pine needles and decorations placed over it with the utmost care. The presents, Murphy realised, were split into piles. Wells's was large, spilling with gifts, Clarke's almost as big and Millers only slightly smaller than hers. Murphy whistled when he saw his pile of presents.

“There's loads!” Murphy said, diving over to them. He could see Miller comparing their piles with a bemused look. Murphy's the smallest easily, with seven small gifts piles together which, compared to the overflowing piles of the others was small. But, well. Recently Murphy's Christmas's and birthday's consisted of very little presents, he'd get something from Dax, wrapped messily with electrical tape sticking the bunched up paper down, a gift from Atom, a gift from Dax and then, if he was lucky a £10 note slipped into a blank card from his mother.

“We'll go one at a time and-”

“Go go go!” Miller yelled. The four kids ignored Abby's idea of a calm and collected Christmas morning and instead tore into their presents ravenously. Paper flying everywhere.

Murphy picked up a small box first, wrapped sloppily he eyed it curiously. The small tag hanging written in biro, For some reason purebloods seemed oddly attached to quills despite them being messy and hard to write with, so even without the small message it was obvious it was from Bellamy.

_Heard you were under the weather, thought this might help. Happy Christmas Murphy._

Murphy tore open the wrapping paper, Barking out a surprised laugh as a box of plasters fell out. The packet was a light pink, showing a picture of the purple plasters, flowers and butterfly's dotted across them.

“Asshole.” Murphy said with a laugh. He tossed the box of plasters to the side, snatching up the next gift.

Christmas at Hogwarts was undeniably different from that back home. After presents Murphy found himself curling up on the arm chair chewing on sugar quills, watching The Griffin's, the Jaha's and Miller interact sleepily while he stroked Clawdia, purring contently on his lap.

He watched as they talked about old Christmas memories. When Wells would go to the Griffin's household or the parties they all attended, laughing about silly things they'd done and telling Murphy the stories with bright grins that left Murphy snorting with laughter.

Jaha and Abby weren't teachers for the morning but parents, fussing over their children and their children's friends on Christmas morning. Murphy loved it. They were trying to include him, Murphy could tell that much but it was difficult, when the majority of their stories had happened before Murphy had even met them, when they would finish each others sentences and jokes but honestly, Murphy was quite content to watch it.

The wounds may have vanished the thin red marks, the pain gone but Murphy could still feel the suffocating ache of another bad memory wishing to be repressed. Could still see his mother pinned to the ground with hands around her throat and yes, he was happy to be back at Hogwarts where he felt safe but it still didn't stop him from jumping when Miller would clap him on the shoulder without warning, or from flinching when someone's voice got a bit too loud.

He liked that he wasn't in the centre of it, that their attention was being drawn elsewhere leaving him to just relax. To look around the common room and remind himself that he was okay.

When they finally ventured to the great hall for Christmas dinner Murphy couldn't help but pause for a moment, the hall was almost empty, the long tables for each house had vanished, replaced with a round table that looked like King Arthur should be sitting at it. There were only a few students milling around and even less teachers.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't awkward. Murphy realised he and his friends were the only first years, the other students that had stayed at Hogwarts apparently having already done so in the years before and had lost the awkwardness you would think they'd have. Jaha knew each of their names, seventh year and a forth year were whispering amongst themselves, cackling like mad from time to time and Murphy figured that it made sense. He doubted the flow of students changed all too much from year to year and, when it was changing, there would be those who'd spent past Christmas's there ready to lead them into conversation quickly probably remembering their first Christmas spent at the castle.

Half way through the door had burst open. David Miller strutting in with a small smile and a polite greeting to everyone as he pulled up a chair next to Miller. Murphy was introduced with a somewhat awkward wave.

After lunch Murphy had waved off his friends and their parents, leaving them to have some uninterrupted family time while he trekked through the crunching snow outside to the Thestrals. They looked even stranger surrounded by the pretty coverage of snow. Their boney bodies seeming sharper, their thin wings practically glowing against the sunny reflection of the snow.

He wondered how many other people at Hogwarts could see them, which students would stop as they walked along the edge of the forest and stop to look at them, and how many of those people would actually want to go anywhere near them. They weren't the friendliest looking creatures, Murphy was pretty sure a horror movie would happily use them if only they'd show up on camera.

When he finally returned to the castle he was cold, his fingers burning from the temperature change as he stepped into the warm entrance hall. Murphy blew into his hands as he marched through the corridors, making his way down towards the kitchens. He tickled the pear, the doorway opened letting Murphy hop in.

The house elves paid little attention to him as he slid himself onto a small stool, flopping his head against the table with a sigh.

“Pretty sure you're not meant to be in here.” Murphy yelped at the voice, spinning around to see Wick creeping up behind him with a grin.

“It's the holidays. School rules don't apply.” Murphy said stiffly.

“Pretty sure that's not true.” Wick hummed. “But sure, we'll pretend it is.” Wick said, grabbing another stool and pulling it up next to Murphy. He sat down with a dramatic groan.

“What do you want?”

“I wanted some peace and quiet away from students but apparently you're everywhere.”

“You could always go to your room.” Murphy said. “Hopefully there aren't any students in there.”

“Going to pretend you didn't just imply what you implied.” Wick said a small bite to his voice that made Murphy smirk. Actually annoying Wick was fairly hard to do. Murphy's comments generally rolling right off of his shoulders, usually with a comeback of his own. “You enjoying Christmas so far?” Murphy snorted a small laugh at that, dropping his head back into his arms. “You okay?”

“Great.” Murphy grumbled.

“Very believable.” Wick said. “You want a hot chocolate?” Murphy not answering was apparently answer enough. Wick jumped up off his stool leaving Murphy peering out from between his arms as the professor begun moving around the kitchen, humming Christmas songs as he went. The house elves watched him nervously.

“You know you could just ask the house elves right?” Murphy said.

“You can't fake genius my friend.” Wick said. “No, for this hot chocolate to taste perfect it has to be done by the master.”

“I think you're very good cooks.” Murphy assured a house elf walking past him.

“I'm not saying they're not. I'm just saying that the wick family hot chocolate is best made by the Wick.”

“Never call yourself the Wick again.” Murphy said.

“The Wick can call himself whatever he wants.” Wick said with a laugh. Murphy watched as Wick continued to bustle around the kitchen, heating up pan of milk, throwing ingredients into it with suspicious glances to Murphy as if he were about to steal his recipe.

He came back before too long with two mugs of hot chocolate. Piled high with whipped cream and mini marshmallows.

“Now, the recipe usually calls for a shot of fire whiskey” Wick said, placing Murphy's mug in front of him carefully, Murphy watched a droplet of hot chocolate slide down the side of the mug slowly. “But I left that out as I quite like my job and I feel that giving an eleven year old alcohol is a pretty sure fire way to get myself sacked. But come back when you're of age and I will make you a hot chocolate that will knock your socks off.”

“I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be trying to knock any clothes off your students, even the socks.” Murphy said.

“You're in a bad mood.”

“No I'm not.”

“Then why are you being a dick?”

“I'd suspect that calling your students dicks is also a free pass to unemployed town.” Murphy said, slurping at his hot chocolate. It tingled across his tongue, warm and sweet.

“Good right?” Wick said with a grin, noting Murphy's little sigh of contentment at the drink.

“It's fine.” Murphy said stiffly. “I've had better.”

“I know you're lying but I also remember how grouchy I could get when I was your age and forgot to have a nap.” Wick said.

“I don't nap.” Murphy hugged.

“Maybe that's why you're always cranky.” Wick joked, taking a long sip of his own hot chocolate, leaving a smudge of whipped cream on his nose. Murphy's lips twitched in a smile. Wick put his cup down with a small frown. Murphy scooped some cream from his own mug, licking it off his finger. “I know that it can suck, spending Christmas away from your family but-”

“I'm more than happy spending Christmas away from my family.” Murphy grumbled bitterly, scrubbing his now sticky finger across his top, cleaning it before he picked a mini marshmallow from the top of the now collapsing pile of cream. Wick was looking at him with curiously head tipped to the side like a dog trying to understand it's owner. “Trying to make my own traditions.”

“And your way of doing that is sitting alone in the kitchen?” Wick asked. “Pretty sure I saw most of your little friends at dinner. Why aren't you making traditions with them?”

“Spending my Christmas with the headmaster and a teacher isn't exactly my idea of a good time.”

“Staying away from teachers is working really well from you.” Wick said sarcastically. Murphy shifted when he noticed Wick's gaze shifting to a red scar Murphy knew was still trying to fade from his hair line. Murphy's fingers came up, smoothing his hair over it which only made Wick frown. “You know I use to spend Christmas at Hogwarts too.”

“You still do.” Murphy pointed out, grabbing his hot chocolate and beginning to sip away at it, more as something to do than anything else.

“Was easier than going home.” He prompted

“Yeah, that train ride can be a bitch.” Murphy deflected, flicking a fallen Marshmallow across the table.

“If you ever need to talk-” Wick tried.

“I don't.” Murphy said stiffly. “Definitely not to you.”

“Okay.” He said softly.

There's a moment, where Murphy wants to tell him, the way Wick's gaze is just as guarded as Murphy as if they're both waiting for whatever they say to be used against them, it tempts Murphy to say it. To let his mouth run wild and tell someone because he can't tell anyone, not really. Maybe Abby and Clarke know bits of it now. They know about Ryan, the latest disaster but they don't get it. They never would and Murphy wouldn't want to tell them, not properly. But Wick..Wick's further away from Murphy. Murphy doesn't know him, didn't see him when he was bruised and bloody.

He wanted to spill it all. To rant and rave and try to sort it out in his own head because maybe telling someone, voicing it all would help. Would explain why he kept hoping for his mum to change, why he still cared, why he was disappointed whenever she proved him wrong, why, after everything she put him through he still felt the nerves swirling in his stomach, slithering like snakes because he'd left her alone with Ryan. He'd seen what he'd been doing and just ran like a coward. She could get hurt and he wouldn't have been there to protect her.

He wanted to say that what Clarke had seen was barely the tip of the iceberg because Murphy could handle that. He could take a punch of a slap or whatever his mum literally threw at him when she was in one of her worst moods but it was the rest he couldn't stand. He hated when she had hit him but at the same time it made a fire burn within him, because she was paying attention to him, really truly noticing him for what always felt like the first time in an eternity. She was passionate and there and maybe it was hatred towards Murphy but it was something and that was better than nothing.

It was better than the cold indifference he usually lived with. With the way his mothers eyes would glaze over him like he weren't even there.

He wanted to explain and have someone tell him that he wasn't crazy. That he wasn't as fucked up as he knew he was. Wanted Wick to listen and tell Murphy that it was normal to crave that attention even when it only came because his mum needed something, Whether it was a punching bag or some money or a quick reassurance that she wasn't an awful mother that Murphy would somehow always find slipping off his tongue despite the way he knew it was a lie.

To tell him about his fathers death and watch the sympathy swirl from his face as he realised that it was Murphy's fault. For someone but his mother to tell him that so Murphy had proof he deserved it.

To explain that still even months on he felt like this was a dream. To say that although he was thankful to be here, that he would fight for a place in this world with everything he had he still felt like he didn't quite belong. That watching the other's and their families just reminded Murphy of how much that seemed to be true. The way a small part of him seemed to linger in London, because he knew that when this all came crashing down it would be easier to still know that part of himself. That accepting it properly would just make It hurt more when he had to leave. That he killed his father and didn't deserve to find a new home here and hated how much he loved it. Hated that the castle made him happy because he shouldn't be. Not when he caused his mother to become the woman she now was.

He swallowed thickly. He couldn't tell anyone. Clarke would keep quiet. He could still pretend to be normal for a bit longer, he wouldn't be able to do that if he told Wick. The professor clicked his tongue and sighed. Watching Murphy, waiting for him to say something.

“It's a good hot chocolate.” Murphy said, voice dead.

“You remember my first class?” Wick asked.

“You won't let me forget it. You call me Cinderella half the time.” Murphy said, curious as to where Wick was going with this.

“You remember that spell I did on Monty?”

“Yes.”

“You want to learn it?” Wick asked with asked, waggling an eyebrow with a grin. Nudging Murphy, reminding him once again of a dog, the way they knew when you were sad and would flop around you, trying to cheer you up.

“Yeah..Alright.” Murphy said with a tentative grin.

It took Murphy what felt like hours to learn the spell but eventually Wick would flip upside down and fly into the air every time Murphy called out 'levicorpus'. Sure, Murphy couldn't actually hold the spell and within a second of Wick hanging in the air he was plummeting back down with a yelp as he crashed into the hard stone floor but, well, Murphy didn't mind, watching his professor hit the floor repeatedly was fairly amusing.

He returned to the common room eventually. Welcomed back with open arms and forced into the conversation between the families all too easily, as if they actually wanted him there. Clawdia settled into his lap again and Murphy let himself get sucked into the conversation, responding to those trying to pull him into it unlike he had in the morning

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter as a 22 year old :O


	11. Untechnically

After Christmas Miller returned home with his dad, Wells, Clarke and Abby seemed to constantly be rushing off for days out, they'd invite Murphy and well, as much as Murphy liked the idea of going to Diagon Alley for ice creams he just didn't have the money for it and despite knowing, or more, hoping, that Abby would pay for him if he just explained that was the reason he was staying holed up in the castle he didn't want to. The few times he would find himself with Abby she would already follow him nervously with her eyes, as if waiting for some kind of fall out for what happened. For Murphy to break down, Clarke was the same.

He didn't want to add onto that the admission that he had no money and he knew that come summer he was going to need to figure out a way to get himself his school books to not increase their worry.

And well, Murphy was bored. Apart from what had turned into a daily hot chocolate break with Wick he barely did anything and that hadn't even been his choice. Wick had just turned up in the Slytherin common room, slamming two mugs of Hot chocolate down on the table hard enough to make Clawdia jump from her place, curled around Murphy's neck like a scarf, and started talking. Each day Wick would arrive, around the same time, plopping the cups onto the table and diving into a conversation as if he and Murphy were old friends and letting Murphy practice his levicorpus with pillow spread across the floor so Wick would have a slightly safer landing.

“Post.” Clarke hummed, Murphy looked up, watching three lone owls flutter in, swirling through the rafters before they dove to their targets. He blinked in confusion when one came towards him. Settling down on the table in front of him and pecking at his bacon leaving him gaping.

He shooed the bird from the bacon while Clarke and Wells laughed quietly at the scene. The bird pecked at his finger, making him retreat with a frown as it moved back to his breakfast. He peered at the letter clutched in it's talons with a frown. He reached out slowly, waiting for the bird to peck him again, to tell him the letter wasn't for him somehow, but It didn't.

Murphy pulled the letter away careful, peering at the front. His confusion only doubled when he recognised Mbege's writing.

“How the hell did he get an owl?” Murphy asked out loud, ripping into the letter

_If this finds you and you're not dead in a ditch then either get your arse to dinner tonight or send me a reply so I know you're not dead. You're very worried and pissed off friends. Mbege._

Murphy finished reading the letter feeling no less confused.

“Who's it from?”

“Mbege. Just wondering how I am.” Murphy said slowly. Pushing his plate out further and looking towards the bird that just hopped along with his plate, still pecking away. Murphy shooed the bird away once more, it took off with a small hoot, spiralling up into the air and back out of the castle.

“You not going to reply?”

“I'll do it later.” Murphy grumbled.

Mbege wouldn't believe him if he replied saying he was fine and back at school. Well, he would believe the back at school part, but not the fine part. He'd want to see Murphy, check him over and make sure he wasn't lying when he said he was fine. He could go. He still had the galleons from Nyko, he could get a knight bus and be back before anyone worried.

“So me and my mum are going to-” Murphy phased out again, brain still riddled with sleep not yet in the mood to listen to Clarke talk about what no doubt going to be another fun day out. He grabbed some fresh bacon, popping it into his mouth with a sigh.

It would be nice to have dinner with Mbege and his family.

*

Murphy ran through the day as normal, waving off Clarke as her and Abby went off for the day, said goodbye to Wells not ten minutes later when he and Jaha came past and retreated to the the Slytherin common room, passing a small gaggle of students, all hovering together, different houses, different ages, all bought together by the loneliness Christmas at Hogwarts seemed to bring, not that any of them seemed lonely. All laughing together like they'd been friends for year.

Wick rolled in after mid day. Plopping the cups down and diving into conversation. Clawdia clawed up onto his shoulders, not that the man seemed to mind, he kept talking, the only change being the way he stopped gesturing, hands staying by his sides as to not disrupt the cat.

“Am I allowed to leave?” Murphy asked looking to his now empty hot chocolate mug.

“We really need to work on your social skills. Now a politer way to get away from someone you apparently don't want to be talking to would be making up an excuse.” Wick scolded softly. “But sure. Leave, I don't care. I'll just stay here, alone and-”

“I didn't mean now.” Murphy snorted. “I just meant am I allowed to leave Hogwarts if I wanted to go see a friend?”

“Technically no.” Wick hummed.

“And untechnically?”

“That's not a word. We really need to add English to the curriculum don't we?” Murphy raised an eyebrow. “No you're not allowed to leave. We're you're care givers, if your parents think you're here and haven't given you permission to leave the grounds then we have to keep you here.”

“Okay.”

“You planning on going somewhere?”

“Not if it'd get me in trouble.” Murphy said with a casual shrug.

“I don't know if I'd believe you.”

“Look, you ever repeat this and I'll throw you off the astronomy tower but you're probably the coolest teacher I've ever met. And I don't meant that in an actually 'cool' way because you do far too many shitty-”

“Language-”

“Puns to be considered cool but..well.you're not a total jackass and that's surprising from teachers and you're nice to me so I'm not about to screw up what's probably the closest I'll ever get to being a teachers pet by lying to you.”

“That was..so sweet.” Wick said, wiping away a non existence tear. “I'll even ignore the fact you called me a jackass and threatened to murder me. I still don't totally buy it.”

“You need me to pinky promise?”

“I was thinking more unbreakable vow but I guess the muggle version works too.” Wick said with a shrug. Murphy blinked as the man actually got up, Clawdia yowling and leaping off his shoulders. He snorted out a disbelieving laugh when Wick held out his pinky.

“Do you promise not to break the rules.”

“You can't be serious.”

“Murphy.”

“I wasn't-”

“I'm ordering you, as your professor, to pinky promise with me.”

“That's a real abuse of power.” Murphy sighed, sticking out his hand with an amused shake of his head as he looped his pinky around Wicks. “But sure, I promise I won't break your rules.”

*

Murphy hadn't been lying. Not technically. Wick said that Murphy couldn't leave the grounds if his mother thought he was there and safe and, well, Murphy knew Cleo would expect Murphy to still be in London, wandering through cold streets and so. Technically, Murphy was doing nothing wrong.

Untechnically he was probably breaking a few rules but, well, according to Wick untechnically wasn't even a thing, so it's not like he could break an untechnical rule.

Murphy's feet crunched along the path as he moved quickly away from the castle towering behind him. For all the talk of Hogwarts being the safest place Murphy found escaping it fairly laughable. He'd worn jumpers harder to get out of.

He slowed when he made it out of the towering gates. He knew there were all kinds of spell to keep the unwanted people out of the castle but, apparently keeping people in had never been a problem. Then again, Murphy can't blame them. No one in their right mind would willingly leave Hogwarts.

Murphy pointed his wand out. Chewing his lip, waiting.

“What are you doing?” Murphy jumped so hard he dropped his wand, the wood clattered to the floor as Murphy spun to face a grumpy looking Wells.

“What-” Murphy gasped.

“We're not allowed to leave.” Wells said stiffly.

“It's a school. Not a prison.” Murphy scoffed, leaning down to grab his wand, he wiped off the mud from it on his trouser leg. His heart rate slowly returned to normal. “Go back inside, I'm just-”

“You're just nothing. Come on. We're going back inside and-”

“I told my friend I'd have dinner with him.” Murphy lied. “I can't just skip. That'd be rude.” Wells raised an eyebrow, clearing saying he didn't believe him. “Wells-”

“You're going to get in trouble. You'll get put in detention and-”

“Oh no, a detention. How will I survive.” Murphy drawled. The Knight bus jerked to a sudden stop in front of them. Leaving Murphy's hair flying out with the breeze it caused. “I'll be back in a few hours.” Murphy promised. Hopping onto the back of the bus. “Here you go almost Doc.” Murphy said, slapping a galleon into Jackson's palm. He walked off before Jackson could give him a ticket, or his change, strutting to one of the large beds and flopping down with a sigh.

He tensed when the bed dipped next to him, a patented Wells sigh slipping from the boy next to him. Murphy held back the groan that threatened to break from him.

“Murphy you're going to get in trouble.” Wells said softly. “We should go back before they realise we're gone.” Murphy grit his teeth. Reminding himself Wells was his friend and that straight up telling him to fuck off wouldn't be a good idea.

“I'm having dinner with my friend. If you want to chaperone fine but I'm not going back before I've seen Mbege.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Murphy repeated dryly. He waited for Wells to get up and leave, to wander back to Hogwarts with his tail between his legs. To tell Clarke and Abby and Jaha about Murphy's rule breaking.

The bus jolted as it took off. Murphy's eyes opened, watching as Wells settled onto the bed next to Murphy. The streets flashed past outside the window.

“The hell are you doing?”

“chaperoning.”

“You can't be serious.”

*

Wells had been serious, despite Murphy complaining, and loudly at that, Wells had refused to return to Hogwarts. And despite Murphy offering his change as a bribe Jackson refused to keep Wells on the bus and take him back to Hogwarts against his will. Murphy had ended up spending the short journey listening to Wells talk about his day in Hogsmeade and how'd he spotted Murphy leaving when he'd been on his way to the library.

Apparently he thought it would be a good idea if Murphy had 'back up'.

Murphy hated them both. He got Jackson to let them off a few streets away from Mbege's house. Hoping that perhaps they would stumble across some teens torching a bin or drinking in the streets and he would be calling for a knight bus to take him home before Murphy could say coward.

Unfortunately, it seemed that for once, the people in Murphy's neighbourhood were behaving. Of course there was the occasional shout coming from someone a street away. A drunken youth stumbling past them, but nothing that overtly dangerous looking to make Wells run. Or, apparently, to even get Wells's mind off being a suck up.

“We should bring something for his mother, as a thank you for having us over.” Wells murmured. “Flowers or-”

“We're going for dinner at a mates house, not courting his mum.” Murphy said with a laugh.

“It's polite.”

“She's got hay fever. You want to make her happy buy something to eat so she doesn't have to waste money on us.” Murphy said. “Maybe I can finally prove to you that microwaves are a brilliant muggle invention and-” Murphy blinked at the empty space next to him. “Wells?” He spun, looking around, he paused for a moment when he saw Wells scurrying towards the tesco they'd walked past a minute before. “Wells!” Murphy bellowed. “You gotta be kidding.” Murphy groaned, taking off after him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You said buy food.”

“I wasn't being serious.” Murphy said. “You don't have to bring dinner. I'm sure she'll have a jar of pesto or something to-”

“Would his family appreciate it?”

“Well..Yeah but-”

“Then I'll buy us dinner. I have more than enough money to-”

“Listen Robin Hood.” Murphy growled. “Maybe you're forgetting, but muggles don't use Galleons. They use pounds and we haven't got any money.”

“I have money.” Wells grumbled, pulling out a handful of scrunched up notes. “It's for emergencies.

“Fine. There's still scary things in there that you don't understand, like electricity.” Wells ignored him apart from a burning glare. Shaking Murphy off and stomping into the shop.

It turned out that although Wells could apparently fit into the muggle world fairly well when faced with things such as muggles and electric lights he, like many people, could not face the self service machine's. Murphy had dragged him out after Wells had exploded, shouting at the self service machine like a true muggle, just a fair bit more hysterical, Murphy thought he'd even seen a few tears prickling in the boys eyes. Not that he could blame him, Murphy himself had once broken a toe kicking the machine's and he'd grown up with them.

After a quick stop at the local chippy they were back on their way to Mbege's. Murphy trudging along, Wells at his side, staring blankly at the floor like a man who's been to hell and back, hand clutched tightly around the bag of greasy chips.

“So. Mbege doesn't know about magic. Obviously.” Murphy said. “so don't say anything about it and try to act a bit less like you have a silver spoon up your arse that's so big you're basically the tin man.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It's means you're a posh git who's been spoon fed everything and I'd much rather my friends not know that you're quite so...you.”

“Charming.”

“A word that's off limits.” Murphy said. “Along with spiffing.”

“Literally never said that.”

“Golly Gosh is also out. Or golly at any point, same with jolly good. No one says that.”

“Really Murphy?”

“You need to take a piss you ask for the toilet, not the lavatory or the bathroom.” Murphy said, doing his best snooty voice for the latter words.

“Have you ever actually listened to me talk? I've never said any of those things. I think I know how to talk to people.”

“I just want you to fit in.” Murphy said. In truth, he just didn't want to get shit for Mbege, Dax and Atom once news got round he was hanging out with someone like Wells.

“Mate if you want, I can talk proper chav like, you get me blud.” Wells said. A laugh ripped out of Murphy despite him trying to keep it in. “You wanna go bruv?”

“Okay stop.” Murphy pleaded, stifling his laugh. “Talk like the damn queen for all I care just never do the chav voice again.”

“If me and you can get on then I'm sure I can survive one dinner with your friend.”

“Do we get on?” Murphy hummed. “I mean, we spend most of our time arguing about Muggle vs Magical.”

“Those are discussions, not arguments.” Wells corrected.

“Sure.” Murphy said, coming to a stop outside Mbege's building. He sighed, shifting from foot to foot. “Alright. Just...don't talk about your horses and we'll be good.”

“I don't have a horse.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Not really.”

Murphy ignored him, he jabbed a finger at the intercom, holding it for a moment too long knowing full well the awful sound that it caused that would be echoing through Mbege's flat. He let his finger slip away after a few moments, peering through the cloudy glass with a sigh. Wells shifted next to him. The intercom crackled.

“What?” Mbege's voice rang, stiff and angry.

“I think you're meant to say hello.” Murphy replied. The intercom cut out for a moment, Mbege's finger no doubt coming away from the button that let them hear each other before it was back.

“The lifts not working.” Mbege said before the intercom cut out again, a small buzz sounded, hissing around Murphy telling him that the lock on the door was open. Murphy quickly shoved his way into the flat.

“Come on.” Murphy urged, waving Wells into the building before he took off, taking the stairs two at a time, curling through the floors until he made it to Mbege's floor.

The boy was already there, standing in the door way, keeping it open with his hip. Murphy swaggered forwards.

“You have a good Christmas?”

“Where the fuck have you been?” Mbege growled.

“Language!” Murphy chastised with a smirk.

“Murphy.”

“It's..” Murphy faltered, trying to think of what to say.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Mbege growled. Murphy turned spotting Wells loitering on the edge of the landing, peering at the two of the looking like a started deer. “Piss off, we're talk-”

“Mbege chill. He's a friend.” Murphy said quickly. “He wanted to come for dinner.” Mbege looked between Murphy and Wells with a raised eyebrow. “We bought food...Jesus Wells you just said you wouldn't embarrass me so will you please stop lurking like you're my stalker!” Murphy snapped, waving Wells forwards, Wells stepped forwards, smiling nervously. “Mbege this is Wells, he's a friend from school.” Wells stuck out a hand to Mbege. Mbege looked down to it, then to Murphy, raising an eyebrow before slowly clasping Wells's hand.

“It's a pleasure to meet you.” Wells said politely. Murphy groaned.

“Jesus, you really are a posh lot aren't you.” Mbege snorted.

“Give us a minute.” Murphy sighed, grabbing Mbege by the collar and hauling him away from Wells. They stopped at the end of the corridor. Mbege's eyes never leaving Wells, squinted suspiciously.

“I don't like him.” Mbege said.

“You don't know him.”

“He seems-”

“He's alright.” Murphy said stiffly, Mbege snorted. “I'm serious, he's alright.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you?”

“He's being polite. It's not his fault he was raised right.” Murphy said. “Just..give him a chance alright.”

“Alright.” Mbege sighed, finally turning his glare away from Wells. “Where the hell have you been? No one's seen you since-”

“I know. I went back to school.”

“Why?”

“Things at home got...complicated.” Murphy said slowly. Eyes flickering over to Wells. “Look he doesn't know anything about what my life's like here and I'd like to keep it that way. So, no smoking, or drinking and try to keep the swearing to a minimum and-

“Are you giving me rules?” Mbege snorted.

“Yes.”

“What happened to you” Mbege asked quietly. “I get you couldn't come to me but why not go to Atom, Or Dax? You never run away.”

“Nothing.” Murphy said with a shrug. They both knew he was lying, he always did, but usually he had the bruises proving that, this time he knew there was nothing. No outward signs that anything bad had happened. “I just...I like it there.” Murphy admitted. “I missed my friends and my mum was being a bitch and I was just fed up so I left.” Mbege seemed to buy the lie, at least somewhat, the crease between his brows softening slightly. “So..You gonna tell me how you got your hands on an owl?” Murphy asked. Mbege paused for a moment, seemingly weighing up whether or not he was going to let the subject change pass. He sighed, shoulders relaxing slightly, leaning back against the wall with a small smirk. Murphy's disappearing act forgotten, at least for now.

“Obvious isn't it? Gumtree.”

“You got an owl... off of gumtree?” Murphy said slowly.

“Borrowed an owl.” Mbege corrected. “Posted an add asking for one and well. This guy met me, right weirdo, you shoulda seen his clothes. But yeah. He lent me his owl. Said he thinks his kid goes to you school. Kept laughing when I asked why they couldn't just send letters like normal people.”

“Um.. Sorry to interrupt.” Wells called. “But the chips are getting cold.”

“Let's go inside.” Mbege said. “Mum'll flip when she sees you.” He added over his shoulder to Murphy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)  
> If any of you ever want to come say hey i'm on Tumblr with the same username and i'd always love more people to chat with :)


	12. Sleigh bells

Mbege led Murphy and Wells into their flat. The TV rumbled in the distance as they picked their way through the cluttered hall.

“Who was it?” Trent shouted.

“No one important!” Mbege replied. The living room door creaked open. Trent popping his head out. His eyes landed on Murphy. A smirk flickering onto his face. Mbege grabbed Murphy shoving him forwards. Murphy was grabbed quickly by Trent, being manhandled into the living room.

“Babe look what the cat dragged in.” Trent said. Murphy grinned sheepishly as Lisa turned from her place curled up on the sofa. Her eyes widening, a smile forming on her face as she spotted him.

“About time you showed up!” Lisa squealed, launching herself off of the sofa and onto Murphy in a rib shattering hug. Murphy gasped, shifting awkwardly in the iron clad grip as he heard Mbege and Wells stifling laughs behind him. “We were worried.” She said, finally letting Murphy out of the hug.

“Sorry.” Murphy murmured. “So I uh..I bought a friend, hope that's okay.” He jerked his head to Wells. “We bought dinner too.”

“Whatcha get?” Trent asked, perking up. Murphy didn't reply, snatching the bag from Wells and moving to the small table, crammed in the corner of the room. He yanked out the greasy paper boats of food. Squinting at the messy scrawl on them while Wells introduced himself to Lisa and Trent, complete with a 'nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Mbege' that had Murphy rolling his eyes.

“Trent heads up.” Murphy said, tossing the greasy battered sausage and chips to the man. He caught it with a grin.

“You keep feeding us and we might let you round more often.” Trent said.

“You're allowed round anytime, you know that.” Lisa said, slapping Trent over the back of the head. Murphy snorted, he quickly dolled out the rest of the meals before moving to take a seat on the floor by the coffee table. He stabbed the small wooden fork into a chip, patting the floor next to him while Wells hovered awkwardly.

“Sit.” Murphy growled, grabbing Wells's sleeve and yanking him to the floor next to him. “Eat.” Murphy instructed, shoving a chip fork into Wells's hand. The boy's eyes strayed around the room once more before he went to his food.

“I'm getting a beer, Babe?” Lisa gave a nod, saying she wanted a beer. “You boys want a drink?”

“I'm good thanks.” Murphy said.

“Beer would be good.” Mbege said.

“Could I have-” Murphy and Mbege groaned as a slap cracked across the backs of their heads in unison.

“No beer.” Trent said.

“I didn't ask for one!” Murphy complained, rubbing the crown of his head as Mbege murmured about it being worth a try.

“No but Mbege and Lisa had me searching the streets for you. You disappear again I'll break your legs.” Trent huffed. Wells squeaked quietly from next to him.

“He's joking.” Murphy said quickly. “This is him worried, he's very emotionally stunt- OW!” Murphy groaned, clutching the back of his head from another quick slap. “Cut it out!”

“Wells, would you like anything to drink?” Trent asked politely.

“Um.” Wells breathed. “Water? If that's okay.”

“Of course. You sure you don't want something else? A can of coke? Cup of tea?”

“No thank you.” Wells said.

“Could I have a can of coke th-” Mbege tried.

“Get it yourself.” Trent snorted, leaving the room. Murphy looked to Wells who was grinning down at his food. Apparently amused by the whole situation.

*

“I think you're being demoted to Mum's second favourite.” Mbege murmured. Murphy snorted, watching Wells as he chatted happily to Trent and Lisa, the two fawning all over him. Casting Murphy and Mbege occasional looks that Murphy knew meant 'look at this nice boy, why can't you be more like him'.

“Alright that's enough.” Murphy sighed. “You wanna go-”

“Please.” Mbege groaned. “Mum, leave him alone. We're gonna go to my room and play on the Xbox.” Murphy grabbed the last few of his chips, shoving them into his mouth and balling up the paper. He dropped it onto the coffee table.

“Don't start any more fires.” Lisa said calmly.

“Any more?”

“It's a long story.”

“And a funny one.”

“It's not funny. It's fucking stupid.” Trent grumbled. “You know what, leave the door open, I don't want the landlord pissed with us again.”

“Whatever.” Mbege sighed, “lets go.” Mbege trudged off towards his room. Murphy grabbed Wells shoulder, although he was polite enough to wipe the grease from the chips onto his trousers first.

“Come on.” Murphy insisted, yanking the boy off the sofa and frog marching him into Mbege's room.

Mbege closed the door behind him, smirking smugly over at Murphy like the cat who got the cream.

“John open the door!” Trent bellowed.

“But-”

“Now!” Lisa shouted. Mbege groaned, flinging the door open with an extra flourish.

“And here you see a dramatic pre teen in his natural habitat.”

“Fuck off.” Mbege snorted, throwing himself onto the bed. “It's stupid that they don't trust us.”

“We literally set fire to your room. They have every right not to trust us.” Murphy said with a small laugh. Shoving Wells onto the bed next to Mbege before he moved to set the Xbox up.

“Right so Wells. This is a games console. You play games on it.”

“I've read about them.”

“I'm sorry...Did you just say you've read about them?”

“Yes?” Wells said slowly.

“Read about them as in only read about them? As in, never played one yourself.”

“Uh..yeah.”

“Jesus Murph what rock did you pull him out from under?” Mbege laughed. “Alright. What games have you played?”

“Uh..I like chess.”

“Is he for real?”

“Yeah. He's pretty good too.” Murphy said. “I say we start him off with Mario kart.”

“What about-”

“No one likes Fifa Mbege.” Murphy interrupted, pushing the disk into it's place. He grabbed the controllers, throwing the best one, the one that still had the back and buttons didn't stick, to Wells, he would probably need the advantage and tossed the one with sticking buttons to Mbege.

The two explained the game to Wells quickly before the three settled haphazardly on the bed and begun playing. Trent came and closed the door five minutes later while the three boys screamed insults at each other. Murphy digging his elbows into Mbege and Wells's ribs whenever they over took him.

Wells, the bastard, seemed to have a knack for picking up shells and shooting them without mercy. Although he did seem to be stuck between laughing each time one of them fell into a stiff bout of swearing watching their little kart roll in the air and apologising.

Mbege switched between standing up and hopping around as he drove and returning Murphy's elbows with slaps and kicks of his own. And Wells and Mbege got on fairly well, much to Murphy's surprise. It seemed Wells was competitive, hilariously so. Joining in with the smack talk Murphy and Mbege were dealing out and crushing them in more than one race. If Murphy didn't know that magic outside of Hogwarts wasn't allowed then he definitely would have accused Wells of cheating when he made it throat rainbow road without tears of frustration shining in his eyes.

It was a good few hours before they left. Murphy was pulled into another hug from Lisa, Only this time Wells was added to it. The two squished together snorting out laughs as she told them to come back anytime they wanted. Trent settled on a quick wave to Wells and a murmured 'stay out of trouble' to Murphy that sounded more like a threat than a warning.

Mbege walked them to the door. Ruffling Murphy's hair like he was a little kid and slapping Wells on the back with a grin. They left with a promise to write soon. They took off down the stairs, breaking out into the cold night air before too long. Wells pulled out his wand.

“Wait.” Murphy said quickly. “We should walk a bit. Lisa watched out the window sometimes, make sure I at least get off the street safe.” He lied. Wells nodded, returning his wand to it's hiding place. “This way.” Murphy said, turning down the street.

Murphy knew what he was doing as he lead Wells through familiar streets with muttered excuses of 'too many people could see' to stop him from calling the Knight bus. No matter how far they seemed to get from Mbege's.

He knew what he was doing when he'd slipped the house keys out of his trunk and into his pocket before leaving the castle.

But still, even as he walked he was trying to convince himself that he wasn't that stupid. That he wasn't leading Wells straight to his home. He tried to tell himself he was just waiting for a better time to call the knight bus, that he was just enjoying the little bit of comfort and familiarity the streets between his and Mbege's gave him.

Murphy's footsteps faltered as they turned the street to the estate, he could see the window, up a flight of stairs glowing a faint yellow from a light bulb inside. Someone was in.

“Wait here.” Murphy croaked. Moving towards the staircase.

“Murphy.” Wells said quickly, grabbing Murphy's arm. “Where are you-”

“That's my house.” Murphy said. “I just want to get one of Clawdia's toys.” He lied. “Call the knight bus, I'll be back in a second.” Murphy shook Wells off, taking off towards the stairs, he raced up them, breath coming out in silver wisps against the cold night air. His clawed his keys from his pocket.

He just needed to see she was okay, then he could grab the first thing he could pass off as a cat toy from his room and then go back to Hogwarts. He didn't even need to talk to her.

He suddenly wished that they'd told him exactly what they'd done with Ryan's memory, whether they changed it or just erased the memories of Murphy coming home. If Murphy would be allowed to skirt round him as if they'd never met.

He pushed the key in the lock, turning it with a shaky breath before he was shouldering into the house.

The stale smoke smell hit him instantly, the house was barely warmer than outside was. Murphy stepped in, licking his lips and scrubbing a hand over his nose as he fought the urge to turn right back around and leave. He opened his mouth, ready to call out. To see who was in.

“John?” Murphy blinked as his mother appeared in the doorway leading to the lounge. Her pale face streaky. His eyes went to the finger shaped bruises on her neck almost instantly. His feet moving of their own accord leaving him stumbling forwards, reaching out.

“Are you-”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asked, backing away from Murphy, crossing her arms, closing herself off. Murphy stilled, hands falling back to his sides, curling into tight fists. Murphy opened his mouth to reply, the words dying on his tongue.

He didn't want to admit that he wanted to check up on her, that he cared whether or not she was okay. He licked his lips, shifting.

“I left a cat toy..for Clawdia.” Murphy croaked.

“Get it and get out.” Cleo snapped. The boy let out a slow breath, clenching and unclenching his fists as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Cleo scoffed, turning around and stomping towards Murphy's room. Murphy followed behind her dutifully. Hovering in the doorway. It was the same as he left it, not a thing out of place. A thin coat of dust settled across the furniture. Murphy watched, grinding his teeth, as she searched around the room. She found a small mouse toy that jingled when you moved it.

“Where's Ryan?” Murphy asked quietly. He had a moment to see the anger flare in her eyes before she was launching the small toy at his head. Murphy dodge it, listening to it hit the wall with a jingle. He imagined it was what it would sound like if Santa's sleigh crashed. “I'll take that as a – you broke up.” Murphy said dryly. Ducking down to grab the toy once again. Cleo moved across the floor, footsteps stomping harshly against the cheap flooring and rickety boards.

Murphy backed up instantly, body swaying closer to the front door.

“It was a bit hard to act normal knowing my son had tried to murder him.”

“That's funny, I thought it would be hard trying to act normal after he'd hurt you.” Murphy said. He noted the irony, how hypocritical he was to say it. That was all he was doing, every damn day he spent with her, trying to act normal, like he didn't know what she looked like with spit flying from her mouth as she screamed at him, as anger burnt in her eyes and she raised her hand to him.

“Get out.” Cleo snapped.

“It wasn't my fault.” Murphy said. “I didn't even mean to-”

“Yeah. I've heard that before.” She huffed. Murphy flinched at the memory of his father.

“I didn't-.” Murphy croaked.

“You almost killed him.” Cleo said, venom lacing her voice leaving Murphy reeling back. His stomach churned, fingers curling into fists as rage burnt through him. It wasn't white hot like he'd so often heard it be described as, like he'd felt before, it was cold. Like stepping out of the ocean as a breeze hits, leaving your skin tingling, stabbing with the cold as goosebumps crawl to the surface.

“I almost killed him?” Murphy said slowly. His voice shook as if it was begging him to scream. “That's what you care about?” He waited for the reaction, for her to shrivel in guilt, to apologise, to do something to show she cared the tiniest bit about him. “He almost killed You” Murphy growled. “He almost killed _me._ ” The words tore at his throat, cutting through it like razor blades. “And you would have let him.” Murphy's anger died instantly at that painful truth, the word swirling through his head, taking his breath away. “You would have let him.” Murphy knew it was a plea that time, everything in him begging for her to challenge the words. She stayed quiet, the house silent around them, just the soft sound of her breathing, the swirl of stale smoke floating through the flat. “My friends waiting for me.” Murphy croaked, turning to leave.

She didn't stop him.

The door clicked closed behind Murphy.

“Murphy hurry up!” Wells yelled. Murphy looked over, walking like he were in a trance to Wells, hanging off the back of the Knight bus. He didn't say anything, just hopped on and found the closest bed. He sat down on the edge of it. Staring at his hands, still curled tightly into fists. The bed dimpled next to him as Wells joined him.

“This was nice...We should do it again some time.” He said, Murphy's eyes snapped up to look at him. Ready to rip into him, to punch him and leave him in the centre of London wandless so he could walk his arse back to Scotland. Wells was grinning, mischievous and bright, so painfully sincere in the belief they had a nice night, his eyes sparkled with the look of a child who got away with stealing a 1p sweet at the store.

Murphy felt a bit of his hollowed out shell click back into place. A small bloom of something there making his lips twitch in a smile, his head shaking as a disbelieving laugh rumbled out of him. Wells's brows pinched in confusion, the smile on his face shifting to bemused. It only made Murphy laugh harder, his fists unfurling, moving to his sides as his ribs ached from the loud boom of laughter he let out.

“You're clueless.” Murphy snorted.

*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)


	13. What i got

 

The knight bus pulled to a sudden stop outside the gates of Hogwarts. The two boys hopped off the bed. Stumbling down the bus, smiles still on their faces.

“You were brutal on mariokart. Remind me never to get you into GTA.”

“What's that?” Wells asked, head tilting in confusion. Murphy snorted.

“You have so much to learn about the muggle world.”

“Yeah, well, why do you think we keep you arou-” Wells came to a sudden stop, both n his words and actions, footsteps faltering leaving Murphy slamming into his back.

“What the hell are you-” Murphy's eyes caught on the adults, lingering by the gates, watching them with stern glares. “Oh.” Murphy breathed. “I reckon if we run we can make it back to the bus.” Murphy said. The Knight bus left with a clap like a gunshot. “Or maybe not.”

“Dad.” Wells said softly, gently, moving again with stumbling steps. “We were just...I mean what happened was...”

“We were walking through the grounds and a werewolf chased us straight out of the gates.” Murphy lied. Badly. Jaha's eyes flickered to him, brow furrowing, the man seemingly stuck between anger an amusement.

“My office. Now.” He said.

Jaha and Wick lead the two back to the quiet castle. The only sounds their feet against the ground and Wick's heartbroken sighs, Murphy rolled his eyes each time Wick would look at him with shinning eyes looking positively betrayed. Jaha's office was large, a circular room that you got to by, surprise surprise, a moving staircase, Murphy thought that Hogwarts really needed to invest in lifts.

Murphy settled into the chair opposite Jaha's desk, piled with different trinkets, a bottle of old scotch sat on the top of a cupboard, covered in dust as if it hadn't been touched in years. Wells shrunk in the chair next to him, curling in on himself guiltily. Wick sat on the edge of the desk. Jaha quickly shooed him off making Murphy smirk.

“Now-” Jaha started.

“It was Wells's idea.” Murphy said casually.

“What?!” Wells shrieked. “That's not true! I caught him sneaking out and went with him to make sure he'd be safe.”

“Traitor!” Murphy growled.

“You did it first!” Wells exclaimed

“Do you two want to get your story straight?” Jaha asked. Murphy knew he was joking but that didn't stop him from grabbing the younger Jaha and dragging him out of the chair, back towards the door until they were out of hearing range.

“He's your dad. Just say it was your plan, apologise, throw in some crocodile tears and say 'I love you im so sorry' and we'll get out of this.” Murphy said.

“Why would it be my idea to go and have dinner with your muggle friends?”

“Because you're a nerd and like all things muggle and wanted to know how a muggle dinner went down? I don't know. You're smart, figure it out.”

“But-”

“Man come on. This has already been a shitty Christmas. I really don't want detention on top of it.” Murphy said softly, 'casually' sweeping his hair out of the way so the fading red line on his head would be visible. Predictably Wells eyes flickered to it, a frown forming. “ I just want something to go right for me for once. I was missing home, I just-”

“I know you're trying to manipulate me.” Wells said stiffly.

“Is it working?” Murphy asked dryly.

Wells shoved him lightly. Stomping back towards Jaha's desk.

“It was my idea.” Wells said softly. Head bowed in faux guilt. “I know we shouldn't have done it but I just...I mean everyday we've been going off somewhere and leaving him here alone. It didn't seem fair and I thought this would be a nice gesture. I mean, he was in St Mungo's a few days ago Dad, I thought.. I was just trying to be nice. To take care of my friend. I didn't-” Wells's voice cracked. Murphy resisted the urge to start clapping and hand him an Oscar. “I didn't mean to make you worry or to get us into trouble or-”

“You're definitely spending too much time with Slytherins.” Wick said slowly. “You know your sons a liar right? But nothing compared to Mr Murphy.”

“Mr Murphy? Really?” Murphy sighed.

“I thought we had something.” Wick said dramatically. “You pinky promised me you wouldn't do this.”

“I pinky promised you I wouldn't go anywhere my mum didn't think I was. For all she knew I was still in London.”

“You betrayed me.”

“Stop being over dramatic.” Murphy groaned.

“You just, lied, right to my face.”

“I didn't lie. Like I said-”

“Fine then you used me. You found out the rules and figured out how to break them and then you just threw me away like I was nothing.” Murphy stared at the teacher in bemusement. He could see Wells out of the corner of his eye, watching the scene with a smile that he was desperately trying to keep down. “I thought we were going to be something great.”

“Are you breaking up with me professor?” Murphy asked. Usually he'd be more than happy to watch Wick rant and rave and fall into one of his ridiculous cycles of nattering bullshit, but, well, Murphy was tired and he'd much rather just get his punishment and get to bed.

“You were my protege. I had plans for us, we were going to figure out getting phones into Hogwarts! It's over.” Murphy blinked as Wick stormed past him, head held high and left the office.

“Okay then.” Murphy said slowly, looking over to the two Jaha's. The headmaster was rubbing his temples.

“Detention, tomorrow night with Mr Wick, I think that will be punishment enough.” Murphy snorted. “Don't do it again. Now go to bed.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Night Dad. Love you.” Wells said. Pulling Murphy out of the room as if he were going to hang around for a cup of tea and a chat if not physically dragged. The two went down the stairs quickly, stopping when they spotted Wick leaning against the wall opposite. Arms crossed a stiff frown on his face that made him look older.

Murphy begun to move away, the boys creeping past him as if the teacher might not see them if they moved slow enough.

“Wells. Go to bed, you, come with me.” Wick said. Murphy opened his mouth to argue but the dark look Wick sent him made him stop. Wells gave a quick nod before rushing off, footsteps clattering on the floor. “Let's go.”

Wick lead Murphy back to his office, it was small, a desk sat littered by paperwork and vials of brightly coloured potions. The walls cluttered with film posters from the muggle world along with a moving poster of a quidditch team.

“Sit.” Wick ordered. Shoving a chair at Murphy before he rounded the desk and flopped into his own. Steepling his fingers like an evil villain while Murphy lowered himself into his seat. He tapped his fingers against the wood, eyes flickering from Wick to the posters.

“What punishment did you get?”

“Detention tomorrow, with you.” Murphy said. Wick nodded.

“You know..I figured out a few years ago that if you want Jaha to go easy on someone you've just got to tire him out first. You make a big scene and overreact and he'll give you a slap on the wrists and send you away.”

“So... That whole...Scene, that was all for show?”

“Even I'm not _that_ dramatic Murphy.” Wick said, with a half smile.

“Evidence says otherwise.” Murphy hummed. “So you're not annoyed with me then?”

“Oh no I'm furious.” Wick said calmly. He leant back in his chair, studying Murphy. “You could've gotten hurt.”

“I was going to dinner at a friends house. Not a shoot out.”

“That's not.....We have these rules for a reason. I get breaking a few rules, believe me I broke more than a few when I was at school here.” That Murphy could definitely believe. “But the rules, this one especially, are there for a reason. It was a few hours before Jaha saw that you were gone. Anything could have happened to you in that time.”

“Nothing did hap-”

“But what if it did? What if something had happened? No one here would have even known where to start looking for you, wouldn't have even known that they should be looking for you, same thing for everyone in London and, even if they did know something was wrong, they wouldn't be able to get in touch with us because they don't know we exists.” Wick said, Murphy shifted in his chair, stuck between guilt and rolling his eyes. He tried to remember the last time he'd been reprimanded like this, with a soft voice and eyes that seem to sparkle with concern not just the harsh words of his mother, spat out with hate or the bored tones of a teacher back in the muggle world, doing it only because they had too, looking like they'd rather be anywhere else, not a care in the world about Murphy, another troublemaker amongst the hundreds in his school.“We need to know where you are so we can protect you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I'm not saying you can't.” Wick said. “Doesn't mean you have to. Nothing wrong with accepting help when it's offered.” Murphy nodded stiffly. Shifting in the seat again, Wick sighed. “Look, if you're going to break a dumb ass rule again at least tell me first. That way I've got your back if you need it.”

“Pretty sure you should stop me from breaking rules rather than helping me.”

“Yeah well maybe if Anakin had been able to confide Obi-wan he wouldn't have went all dark side. Just..tell me alright? So I can make sure you don't get hurt.”

“You underestimate my power.” Murphy mumbled. A smile grew on Wicks face.

“Did you at least have fun?” Wick asked. Murphy opened his mouth, ready to say yes before his mind flashed back to the last stop of the night. To his mother.

 _She would have let him kill me_ He shook his head, forcing the thought from his mind.

“It was alright.” Murphy said, forcing a smile. “It was great.” he amended

“You know.” Wick said conversationally, kicking his feet up onto the desk. “I'll say it again, you ever need to talk-”

“I don't.”

“Well..If you ever _want_ to talk then-”

“I don't want to talk either.” Murphy said, rolling his eyes which only seemed to make Wick grin.

“So what do you want then? Some nice glass slippers? A pumpkin carriage?”

“It's an onion not a pumpkin.” Murphy mumbled.

“That's Shrek,not Cinderella.” Wick said. “When I was your age, I wanted to move out.”

“How'd that go for you?”

“Pretty well actually. Took five years, far too many boring muggle jobs over summers, paper rounds, dog walking, gardening-”

“I don't want to move out.”

“Then what do you want?” Murphy was sure it was meant to be a pretty simple question. That most of his friends would have answered something instantly. Dax would say a new Xbox, Mbege would say a zippo lighter, he'd been trying to steal one from Trent for years but he kept finding it stashed away in Mbege's room, Atom wanted a dog. Jasper would probably say something dumb, like a house made out of sweets, Bellamy would want his sister to be at Hogwarts. That everyone would have one thing, one stupid

But for Murphy, it wasn't simple, it left his lips twisting in a frown, swallowing down the long string of answers that fought each other. The contradictions that wrestled in him on a daily basis.

To start again, for his dad to be alive, for his mum not to blame him for the death, to get his mum to a rehab, for her to want to go to a rehab, for her to love him, for someone to convince Murphy that she wasn't worth it, to hate her as much as she hated him, to get as far away from her as possible, to stay as close to her as possible and be the family that he dreamt they could be when he was younger. To be happy, to stay how it was, to take it all with nothing left because surely he didn't deserve to be happy, not if it was his fault. To know what the hell he actually wanted and not feel his sanity slipping away whenever he tried to piece it together.

Murphy licked his lips. Giving a small shrug.

“To get some sleep.” He murmured. Wick lips twitched in a small smile.

“Aright. Go on then.” Wick said, waving at the door. Murphy was more than happy to comply, scrambling out of the chair and towards the door. “Oh and you're grounded for sneaking out.”

“You can't ground me.” Murphy sung, ducking out of the office. Wicks voice called after him as he scurried back towards his dorm, leaving him shaking his head, a tired grin on his face.

“Then I'm revoking your Wick family hot chocolate privileges for a week!”

Clarke held her tongue when Murphy got back to the dorm but that didn't stop the stink eye. Or the way she curled up in Millers bed facing him for once. Lips pursed and disapproval wafting from her until she finally fell asleep.

She held the lecture until breakfast, when Wells plopped down next to them at the table her silent treatment ended. The two sat with their heads bowed as she ranted, after what felt like a few millennia of being scolded she changed her tune, huffing out a breath and first asking if they had fun and then why they hadn't brought her with them.

Murphy promised to bring her the next time he snuck out.

Wells promised they wouldn't sneak out again.

Murphy was pretty sure they were both lying.

Wells had no trip that day. Staying in the castle by Murphy's side. Wick corralled the two for detention later in the day, ignoring Murphy's protests about how they shouldn't even be able to get detention out of term time. He lead them down to the dungeon, into the potions room, took their wands away and sat with an evil grin as he ordered the two to clean out cauldrons, sort flubberworms and clean up the mess of a potion Wick had apparently tried to make that morning that had left turquoise sludge splattered across the floor and walls. The fact that more kept appearing when they were almost done wasn't lost on Murphy, or the way Wick would howl with laughter each time a new mess appeared.

Eventually Wick let them go, either bored of screwing with them or was unable to hold them for more than a few hours without child protection laws coming into play, Murphy was pretty sure it was the latter as Wick's eyes were shining with tears of mirth as he looked over the pair of them covered in the sludge. Murphy hurried towards the Slytherin common room, lip curled in disgust as he flicked some of the sludge of off his hand. It flicked onto a portrait with a wet slap, he heard the tinny voice snap at him and quickly shot his middle finger up at it. He was not going to be told off by a damn portrait. Wells trailed after him, proverbial tail between his legs.

The door creaked open, Murphy climbed in, ready to beeline to the bathroom and shower for a good few years. He heard a gasp and his head snapped over to the sofa, where Clarke was sitting curled up with a book in her lap, Clawdia curled next to her. Her lips started to twitch. Her hand diving for what Murphy realised was a camera, she held it up.

“Don't.” Murphy warned stiffly.

“Say flubberworm!” Clarke cooed.

“flubberworm.” Wells said sadly. The flash went off. Murphy put his middle finger up at her. Grabbing Wells's shoulder.

“You're dead to me.” Murphy grumbled. Stomping towards the bathroom, tugging Wells after him. Clarke's howls of laughter followed them.

After a good three quarters of an hour Murphy deemed himself clean enough to leave the shower. Padding out in his too small pyjamas to the common room. He paused for a moment, eyes running over Wick sitting on the floor by the table, three cups of hot chocolate piled high with cream and marshmallows sat in front of him. He flopped onto the arm chair, Clawdia immediately joined him, curling up on the arm of the chair tail flopped over his wrist. Wells was spread across the sofa, head on Clarke's lap as he recounted the detention. It didn't seem like he was getting much sympathy, Clarke stifling laughter as Wells wailed helplessly about the never ending mess, Murphy was sure he didn't notice the cream smeared across his upper lip.

Murphy noted the photo sat on the table. He watched as he and Wells moved within the photo. Both looking weary and pissed off, covered in slime that looked no where near as bad on camera as it had in real life but still made Murphy cringe as he noted a lump of it stuck in his hair. Wells forced a brittle smile at the camera that broke into a pout almost immediately. Murphy didn't look impressed in the slightest and he couldn't help but snort out a laugh when his finger came up, flipping the camera the bird before he dragged Wells out of the shot and it begun to loop again.

Murphy's eyes slid away from it as something scratched across the table. He looked up, watching as Wick slowly nudged a full cup towards him. His eyes flickered around the table and he saw there were now four mugs sitting on it.

“Thought I didn't get any for a week?” Murphy said, grabbing at it before Wick could change his mind and send it away wherever he'd got it from.

“It's cold.” Wick said. Murphy wrapped his fingers around the mug. Blinking when he realised that there was no heat seeping through the ceramic, instead there was a chill, one that made Murphy's fingers tingle and burn with how frigid it was. He pulled a hand back.

“Seriously?”

“I told you you couldn't have any _hot_ chocolate.” Wick said.

“You're an idiot.” Murphy said. “Alright, fine. It's not that great anyway.”

“Not that-” Wick gasped, pulling out his wand and tapping it twice against Murphy's mug, Murphy watched with a smirk as steam began to rise from beneath the cream. “taste that and tell me it's not the best damn hot chocolate you've ever had.” Murphy did as he was told, sipping away and holding back the moan of pleasure. It was unfairly good.

“I guess it is pretty good. Thanks for warming it up for me.” Murphy hummed.

“You..I hate Slytherins.” Wick grumbled. Clarke let out a laugh that sounded more like a seal honking than a laugh as Wells explained how he'd managed to get some of the sludge into his mouth while trying to wash it off.

“Same.” Wells grumbled, throwing himself off of Clarke's lap and grabbing his dwindling hot chocolate off the table. “I can't wait till the others are back.”

“You and me both. Clarke snores.” Murphy said, Dodging the pillow she threw at him. Clawdia hissed at the girl, hackles raised as she moved to sit beneath the table.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I'll try update soon :)


	14. All good things

“Did we have to come to the station?” Murphy grumbled bitterly, tugging his hoodie further around him as he glared at the train creeping towards the platform laughably slowly.

“It's called being polite.” Wells said.

“It's called freezing your balls off.” Murphy grumbled.

“My balls feel fine.” Clarke hummed. Murphy shot the pair of them a glare, both wrapped in warm looking robes that left Murphy's hoody looking like he'd found it on the street in some back alley. Stupid rich people. Murphy tried to shove his hands further into the pockets, shaking his head to try and get the slowly falling snow off it.

“We could be warm in the castle right now.” Murphy said.

“You made me suffer through a detention, I'm making you suffer through the cold.” Wells said.

“I didn't _make_ you. You chose to come with me.”

“So you wouldn't get hurt.”

“Oh what would you have done if someone attacked us? Scold them? Write a strongly worded letter to the city council?”

“You-” The trains horn sounded, echoing across the open station. The doors slammed open, students flooding out. Rushing past the three waiting first years like they weren't even there. Murphy jabbed a few people in the sides with his elbows.

“There!” Clarke called. Murphy spotted where she was pointing. The four boys hopping off the train a few doors down. “Lets go.” Wells and Clarke rushed off, shoving through the crowd, Murphy followed with a sigh, grumbling as more people shoved past him. Clarke and Wells begun the big meet and greet, Jasper pulling both of them into a hug. Murphy stuck his leg out, it caught the poor soul walking past him tumbling over it. Murphy smirked as he heard the started yelp and dull thump as the boy slammed into the snow.

“Really?” Murphy's eyes caught Bellamy, the boy raising an eyebrow at him, looking between Murphy and the guy he'd tripped with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm bored.” Murphy admitted. Sliding up next to him. “Can we go no-” Murphy let out a cut off yelp as he was barrelled into from the side, slamming into the fluffy snow with a dull thump.

“Dude it's so good to see you! Clarke said you went to St mungo's. Are you okay?”

“Get the hell off of me!” Murphy growled, shoving jasper off onto the snow. “I was fine until you tackled me.” Murphy yelped once more as he was lifted from the ground. Miller and Bellamy grabbing an arm each and hauling him to his feet. Miller quickly brushed off the snow. Monty and Wells did the same with Jasper, the boy still grinning at him like he hadn't just rugby tackled Murphy in an attempt of a hug.

“You-” Jasper begun.”

“Can we go back to the castle for the reunion? It's freezing out here.” Monty said quickly. Murphy grinned, shrugging the two boys off and marching for Monty, he looped an arm around his neck, more in a choke hold than anything, dragging him towards the path leading away from the station.

“Knew there was a reason I missed at least one of you.” Murphy sighed happily. Monty snorted, grinning up at him.

*

Classes re started the next day and like that the routine Murphy had grown use to before holidays fell back into place, the winter rolled into spring and then before he knew it summer was breaching the horizon, exams looming leaving even Jasper frazzled and working frantically.

Murphy had expected them to awful, like the exams he'd done the year before at the muggle school, the whole year would be stuck in the great hall with little desks, the scratch of quills on parchment and muffled coughs filling the room for two hours. He'd thought he'd get distracted looking at the celling, the clouds rolling through the sunny skies leaving him aching to be outside, thought he'd look over and have to stop himself from laughing when he saw Wells with his eighteen spare quills and Bellamy's too serious face as he went about the test like it were life or death.

Instead it was...fun. Still magic, ninety percent of the time he had to go into his usual classroom and preform a few spells, answer a few questions and then he was free to leave. His favourite was Charms. If only because he'd been partnered with Bellamy and so when Wick asked him to demonstrate a levitation spell Murphy had cast levicorpus and watched as Bellamy screamed and was dragged into the air by his ankle and judging by Wick's ecstatic laughter it hadn't lost him any marks.

The last few weeks of school were calm. Every time they'd finish an exam their classes would become little more than playtime. The teachers all using it to show them more advanced spells and silly gags that weren't technically on the curriculum. The fifth and seventh years didn't have it so easy, wandering around the castle like ghosts, pale skinned and listless. They all hunkered down in the library or common rooms leaving the castle strangely quiet and letting the first years roam to their heart content. Taking the best seats by the lake and stretching out in the sun like a herd of cats.

By the time the last day of school was rolling around Murphy was wishing that the whole summer could be like the past few weeks. Sitting with his friends, not worried about anything, but, unfortunately he knew that wouldn't be true, his trunk was packed, barring the clothes he was wearing a pair of pyjamas. Murphy crunched through the grounds, stamping down on the sun dry grass. His eyes running over the thick mass of trees of the forbidden forest.

He found Clarke where he expected to find her, outside Nyko's hut, a bucket of meat at her feet slowly warming in the sun. Murphy grabbed the bucket and the two made their way to the thestrals. Clarke hunkered down in her usual patch, watching as Murphy tossed the steaks out to the beasts.

“I can't believe we're going home tomorrow.” Clarke said. “The years gone really fast.”

“Tell me about it.” Murphy murmured. “A year ago I didn't even know wizards were real. Thought your mum was a cosplayer or something when she came to my door.”

“What's a cosplayer?”

“Purebloods.” Murphy said with a dramatic sigh. “Don't worry about it” He tossed the last bit of meat to a younger looking thestral, it bounded towards it like a gazelle. “Clawdia's gonna hate me taking her home for the summer.” Murphy said with a small smile, he flopped down next to Clarke, dropping the empty bucket. “She's got use to being here, having the whole castle to run around and being fed the fancy food. She won't be impressed when I give her the cheapest dry food I can find.”

“You shouldn't be going back.” Clarke said, sounding surprisingly bitter. Murphy looked over to her curiously, raising an eyebrow at the dark expression on her face.

“What?” Murphy asked, bemused.

“I've kept my mouth shut about Christmas but-”

 _oh_ Murphy thought, rolling his eyes.

“Clarke.” Murphy warned stiffly.

“No. Don't 'Clarke' me. I let you pretend nothing had happened because you were here and safe but you can't actually expect me to let you go back to that house and-”

“This isn't your problem Clarke so just b-”

“Yes it is. You're my friend. You know you can't stay there.”

“Where else would I go Clarke?” Murphy asked tiredly. “It's not like-”

“You could come home with me.” Clarke said softly.

“Tm not a stray dog. You can't just-”

“No you're not. You're my friend and I don't want you getting hurt and you will if you go back to your mother.” Murphy clenched his hands into fists, mouth snapping shut, teeth grinding as he tried to think of a comeback. “Look at me.” Clarke snapped. Murphy did so begrudgingly. Glaring into Clarke's soft blue eyes. “I care about you.” She said, voice like a cool wave as it washed over Murphy, brushing across his skin and leaving him with goose bumps. He'd seen Clarke lie over the past almost year he'd known her, seen her manipulate her way out of a late homework, spinning stories that sounded so sincere, voice soft and soothing, coaxing people into believing her. He knew the way her brow would scrunch just a bit too much with the faked sincerity, the way her voice may be small and gentle but was still sure, never faltering or breaking. He'd seen it a thousand times and knew without a doubt that this, this wasn't that. That this Clarke, with her shaky voice and flickering gaze, was Clarke when she really meant something, this was Clarke truthful and worried and believing in every word she said and it made Murphy ache. “and I don't want you getting hurt, I can't have you getting hurt and if you go back there-”

“It's my home.”

“It doesn't have to be, Come home with me. We have enough space, you'll have your own room and Clawdia will love chasing mice in the field and she can stay on the nice food. You'll be safe.” Murphy could picture it, for a moment, being safe. Living with Clarke and Abby. Could see himself sitting in a fancy living room that probably had a fireplace and fancy chairs that's head rests curled in pretty patterns. A room where he'd eventually learn he didn't have to keep the door locked. And then he saw his dad, saw blood seeping across cold concrete, could see his mother at his funeral as screams tore from her throat so ripe with pain even those who hadn't known Alex had been left with tears in their eyes and sorrow coating them as they watched the widow mourn.

“I gotta go home.” Murphy said, shaking his head to get the images out of it. The idea of the home that could be rolling from his mind like smoke out a window. “I gotta take care of her.”

“That's not your job.” Clarke said. Murphy looked to the thestrals.

“Yes it is.”

*

Murphy slumped through the caste, hopping up the moving staircase with only a small pang of nerves. He found Wicks classroom with practised ease. Wandering through and knocking on the door with soft thumps.

“Come in!” Murphy ducked into the office, nodding to Wick who peered up from his arms with a small grin. “Shouldn't you be packing.”

“Thought you might want a last minute hot chocolate.” Wick didn't need asking twice, the man all but leaping over his desk, scattering paperwork as he did.

*

Murphy ignored Wick's gaze as he shoved packets of cat food into his pocket from the seemingly never ending tower of feed in one of the cupboards. eyeing the small elves as they stumbled around the kitchen, cleaning up and getting things ready for breakfast the next morning. He wondered if they were happy the students were finally going for a few months. He would be, if he spent the whole year feeding and cleaning up after them. He finished filling his other pocket, patting himself down for any more space.

“You feel like teaching me how to make a Mary poppins bag?” Murphy asked, moving over to Wick at the table.

“I don't think teaching you spells just so you can steal from school is a good idea.” Wick hummed, sipping his hot chocolate with a small smile. He moved to sit down. “Just..give me a second.” Wick sighed, Murphy paused halfway to his seat, watching Wick as the man leant back and started fiddling with his shoe, he took one off, yanking the sock off as well before shoving his toe's back in, he held the sock up, glared at Murphy and turned around, hiding whatever he was doing to the sock. He was turning back a moment later, holding the sock out like an offering.

“Here, just don't go overboard.”

“I...I don't want your sock.” Murphy said, backing away from the offending garment.

“It's a magical sock.” Wick insisted. “If you sit down you're going to end up covered in cat foot so just..put the cat food in the sock and get a few more so you can switch Clawdia back over to her dry food without her throwing up everywhere.” The sock waved in his face. Murphy grimaced before reaching out and taking it. He pretended he couldn't feel that it was a bit damp, grabbing the food from his pockets and fighting the pouches into the sock. They seemed to drop away into nothing.

A few minutes later and Murphy knew he probably had enough food to feed a small army of cats, he tied the opening of the sock into a knot and threw it back down onto the table, retaking his seat. Wick nudged his hot chocolate towards him.

“It's weird to be leaving.” Murphy admitted.

“Tell me about it. In my third year I tried to stay over the summer. Figured I could hide away until everyone was gone then just keep myself busy for summer, make friends with sir inksalot.” Murphy rolled his eyes at Wicks name for the giant squid.

“Did it work?”

“Nah, Sir Inksalot still doesn't like me very much.”

“I meant staying here.”

“No. They found me within half an hour of the train leaving, port-keyed me back home.” Wick said with a small laugh. “You'll be back before you know it. Just gotta stay out of trouble for a few months.” Murphy snorted.

“Easier said than done.” Murphy sighed, resting his forearms on the table and watching Wick as he frowned, no doubt trying to think of a way to start a 'serious' conversation. “You know you're pretty cool for a teacher.” Murphy said. “Best one i've ever had.” The grin that spread across Wick's face instantly told Murphy that the serious conversation crisis was averted.

“Just wait until we get to the interesting years. First year's nothing. You stick with me till your NEWTS and my class will blow your little mind.”

“Sure.”

“It will! We'll get you doing non verbal spells and-” Wick went off on an excited rant leaving Murphy nodding along, sipping at his hot chocolate with a small grin. “And you shouldn't have any trouble getting into my class. You're one of my best students at the moment.”

“That's because i'm the only one getting private tutoring.” Murphy snorted. “I'm nothing special.”

“I don't-”

“I can't wait to use pens again. Quills are stupid.” Murphy interrupted. Wick frowned but let the subject change with a small nod.

“I'll drink to that.” He hummed. “Muggles sure have got the right idea about a few things. Me and you, we're going to figure out how to get phones at Hogwarts next year, And internet, do you know how much tv I've missed since I started teaching here? Most of my summer is just me trying to catch up.”

The two finished their drinks before long, Murphy drooping tiredly in his seat, ready for bed but not wanting to leave just yet.

“Come on. Get your sock and lets go.” Wick insisted leaving the choice out of Murphy's hands, he groaned, standing up and grabbing the sock. Following Wick quietly through the corridor. They ended up outside of the Slytherin common room, Wick slapping a small piece of parchment into Murphy's hand. “If you need anything give me a call.” Murphy peered down at the number scrawled down. “And I do mean anything, more cat food for Clawdia, you ran out of toilet paper. Your favourite character dies in the book your reading and you need a hug. “ Murphy snorted. “You have got a phone right? I can buy you one if you-”

“Why are you doing this?” Murphy asked.

“Guess I wish someone would have done if for me.” Wick sad with a small shrug. “So the phone, do I need-”

“I have a phone.” Murphy lied. Wick nodded, clapping Murphy on the shoulder.

“You'll be back before you know it.” Wick said softly. “I'm serious, you need help, call me. I'll apparate over and-”

“Yeah, I will.” Murphy said, knowing full well he wouldn't. On the chance he did need help he'd figure something else out that wasn't calling a teacher. “Thanks for the hot chocolate.”

“See you next year.” Wick said with a smile, he squeezed Murphy's shoulder one more time before sweeping away.

*

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally didn't post this in the wrong fic first shhh  
> I hate myself oh my god that's so embarassing
> 
> Sorry it's shitty, i wanted to get done with first year


	15. Talk to frank

The carriage was cramped on the ride back to London. Clawdia meowing and trying to bat at peoples heads from the luggage rack. Murphy couldn't help but grin as her paw got caught in Bellamy's hair leaving the boy yelping and Wells snapping for him not to move while trying to delicately extract the cat claws from Bellamy's scalp.

“Are you sure you don't want to-” Clarke whispered.

“Drop it Clarke.” Murphy growled, interrupting her before she could finish the thought.

“You should come stay for a few days at least.” Clarke said. “Everyone else is.” Clawdia's paw came free, Murphy watched as she lodged herself behind a bag.

“What are we all doing?” Miller asked.

“Staying at mine during the summer.” Clarke said.

“It's still okay if O comes right?” Bellamy asked, rubbing at his abused head.

“Why is everyone staying at yours?”

“For the quidditch world cup. You should definitely come.” Wells said. “It will be amazing, the final is always intense, sometimes it can last for days.”

“How much are tickets?”

“I have no idea.” Wells said. “Doubt they're too expensive, maybe a hundred galleons.”

“That's not too expensive?” Murphy said with a disbelieving laugh. “Merlin, you really are rich aren't you?”

“I can help pay, if the money will be a problem.”

“It won't be.” Murphy said stiffly. He'd just need to figure out a better way of getting money than his mothers drinking buddies.

“Are you sure? I really don't mind, I get pocket money so-”

“I'm not a charity to give to Wells. I'll be fine. I'll just get a paper round or something.” Murphy said, Wells opened his mouth, no doubt to protest that. “It'll be cool.” Murphy said, ranting on too quick for anyone to cut In. “I think I'm going to try out for the Quidditch team next year so it'd be nice to see a real match.”

“That I have to watch.” Bellamy snorted. “Bet you'll fall off your broom before you even start the try outs.”

“You lost our last five races.”

“You got the better broom.” Bellamy argued.

“You're just a sore looser.” Murphy said. “If you'd been faster you'd have managed to get it.”

“I picked it up first, you elbowed me out of the way!” Like that the conversation of money was forgotten by all but Murphy. He spent the hours rolling across train tracks with a smile on his face, chatting to his friends and trying to ignore the small burn of sadness eating away at him at the thought that he wouldn't be seeing them for almost two months.

Murphy didn't wait around to say goodbye to anyone, the second the train pulled to a stop he grabbed Clawdia, now back in her carrier and raced to leave the platform before he could watch his friends have their happy reunions with people who cared enough to meet him from the station. He didn't need Clarke to feel sorry for him when she noticed he was the only one walking out alone.

*

Cleo didn't even attempt to talk to him when he got home and Murphy couldn't bring himself to mind too much. He remembered the last time he'd seen her, remembered realising that she would have let her boyfriend beat him to death. He'd still sneak out to tuck her in, roll her on her side when she was choking on vomit late at night, would plop ready meals down in front of her when she was looking too gaunt but otherwise it was like he wasn't even there. Murphy knew that the longer he waited the more fractured their already broken relationship would get, the harder it would be to paste it back together but, each time he found himself trying to suck up the courage to go and make her talk to him he'd remember the cold look in her eyes and end up leaving the house for something else to do.

Which generally left Murphy wandering the streets with Mbege and the others or hiding in his room replying to the owls that would land on his window with short messages. Most were from Clarke, ones that Murphy would reply to instantly, worried she'd turn up on his doorstep if he didn't do so quick enough.

He looked for a job, ignored the churn of his stomach as he made his way into the living room when his mother hand friends over and forced on a smile as he got them to bet on him, on how many shots he could take or how many punches to the arm he could take before he gave up and would leave with jingling pockets knowing full well that it wouldn't be enough for a ticket to the cinema let alone the quidditch world cup.

*

“I know a guy who could give you a job.” Dax said, a week and a half after Murphy had gotten back for the summer. His voice low as the two laid on his sofa, playing on the playstation two trying to ignore the sound of Dax's mum and dad fighting in the next room.

“Yeah? What kinda job?”

“Well-” Dax said slowly, drawing it out and shifting in his seat in a way that made Murphy pause, mind running through jobs that weren't exactly legal.

“I'm not being a prostitute.” Murphy said stiffly.

“Yeah, because so many people would pay to have sex with you.” Dax snorted. “The hell kind of people do you think I know that I'd offer you a job as a prossie?”

“Well-” Murphy drawled.

“Don't answer that.”

“So what job is it?” Murphy asked. Dax shifted, eyes flickering to Murphy, then to the door where his mother was hidden before they returned to the screen.

“A dealer.” Dax breathed.

“What?”

“I can get you a job as a dealer.”

“A drug dealer?”

“No, I know a casino that likes to employ kids to run the poker tables.” Dax snarked “Course a drug dealer.”

“It makes more sense than someone trusting a kid with drugs.” Murphy whispered, as if the walls could hear them talk.

“It's a good plan. Police ain't gonna check a kid for drugs.”

“I'm not...I mean.. that's...does it pay well?” Murphy asked. Dax snorted.

“Far as I know it plays real bloody well. And I figure with your mum you'll be sellin' stock like bunnies at Easter. So what do you say, want to meet him?”

“How do you know him?”

“Dylan buys from him when mums out, one of his kids turned up. Offered me a job, got me a number and everything.” Dax said with a small laugh. They both paused as Dylan stormed from the bedroom, slamming the door loud enough to shake the thin walls.

“I'm going to the pub.” Dylan huffed, stomping past the two of them and out of the door. The boys were silent, listening to the soft cries from the bedroom with their faces twisted.

“Knob.” Murphy said “Prick.” Dax growled. The two snorted looking to each other with fond grins.

“Your mum deserves someone better.”

“Don't we all fucking know it.” Dax said with a huff, he turned back to the screen. “So, you want me to give him a call?” Murphy looked to where Dylan had left with a frown, if it was someone who Dylan would hang around with he knew he should say no. Dylan was like his mother, an utter piece of shit that for some reason someone still believed in. He thought of spending a week stuck at home while his friends went off to watch the world cup and grimaced.

“Yeah..yeah alright.” Murphy sighed.

*

They met him that night, Murphy had thought he'd have at least a few days to stew over what he didn't doubt was going to be a decision he came to regret but instead Dax had told him no more than ten minutes after the conversation that he could meet Murphy that night.

Murphy was tense as they came to the house, it looked the same as any other place on the estate. His fingers itched to grab for his wand, call the knight bus and run straight back to Hogwarts. Dax clapped him on the back.

“It'll be fine.” Dax didn't give him a chance to argue that before he was knocking on the door. “See you soon.”

“Wha-” Dax took off running. “DAX YOU FUC- The door swung open as Murphy stumbled to go after his friend, Murphy barely had a chance to yell before he was being yanked inside roughly.

“Shut up.” A voice hissed, Murphy let himself be frog marched through the house, wincing at the different voices coming from the rooms they passed. He supposed if all went too badly he could just put a barrier up around himself. He doubted it would last with a bunch of angry drug dealers beating against it trying to get to him but as long as it lasted long enough for someone from the ministry to get there to wipe memories he'd be fine. If not, well, at least he could get beaten to death knowing help was coming.

Murphy righted himself as he was shoved into a surprisingly bright room, the lights burning his eyes as he squinted around.

“You Murphy?” A deep voice asked. Murphy nodded mutely, blinking, still to try and get himself use to the light, slowly he begun to adjust, wishing he hated when he saw the small forest of marijuana plants spread across the room.

The man was old, with grey hair and sagging skin but he in no way looked fragile, muscles still pressing against his clothes and a posture that suggested a military background.

“So what do you want?”

 _To leave_ Murphy thought, peering over at the man guarding the door, his arms were crossed jaw set watching Murphy as if he were waiting for Murphy to whip out a gun and start going all psycho pre teen on them.

“A job.” Murphy said, trying to ignore the way his voice shook.

“You any good at maths?”

“uh. Yes. Yes sir.” Murphy stuttered, the guard chuckled. G.I Joe smiled almost fondly, looking to Murphy.

“You do drugs?”

“No sir”

“You want to do drugs?”

“No?”

“Good. Hows your maths?”

“Decent.” Murphy said.

“Why'd you want money?”

“Food mostly.” Murphy mumbled.

“Alright. My names Derek, nice to meet you.” Derek marched towards Murphy leaving the younger boy taking a few quick steps back. Murphy yelped as Derek's arm jolted towards him, landing in a vice like grip and yanking him forwards again. “Careful there kid, almost trampled my plants.” Derek gruffed, letting go of Murphy and pointing to more plants growing behind them.

“Oh..Sorry.” Murphy squeaked. Derek ignored his apology. Fishing a phone out of his pocket.

“This is for you, use it for this only, don't go texting your friends on it alright? S'got credit. You come get a new one at the beginning of each month. You get caught by the police you've never met me. You try to tell them you have and I promise you you'll be dead and I'll be long gone before they ever get here. Alright?” Derek's clapped Murphy on the shoulder, squeezing tight enough to have Murphy buckling, a feral grin on the mans face.

“Alright.” Murphy said. The hand was gone, Derek's smile switched from terrifying to charming.

“Good.” his eyes ran up and down Murphy. “You eaten yet?”

“Uh-” Murphy begun.

“That's a no. You want some dinner?” Derek didn't give Murphy a chance to reply, just tugged Murphy back out into the darker hallway. A few minutes later and Murphy was sat in a surprisingly large dining room a plate of food in front of him, he fiddled with the cutlery, twisting it between his fingers as Derek dug into his own food, knife scrapping across the plate ferociously as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

“Eat.” Derek gruffed, slurping at a beer. Murphy did as he was told, shovelling a few mouthfuls in. “You just looking for a job for the summer or you wanting something more permanent?” Murphy swallowed his food, ignoring the fact he hadn't chewed it enough and the burn as he forced it down his throat.

“Uh..summer.” Murphy croaked, hitting his chest to try to alleviate the pain. “I go to a boarding school. Won't be around much during school.”

“You go to a boarding school? You can swing money for a boarding school but not for food?”

“I don't have to pay.” Murphy said, shifting uncomfortably.

“You must be smart then.” Derek said, looking oddly proud of the boy he'd just met. Murphy tried not to laugh at the idea of him being smart, giving a small shrug.

“Just poor, they paid for my books and stuff.” Murphy said. The conversation lulled, Murphy emptied his plate in record time, shovelling food into his mouth to make it obvious he wouldn't be able to talk if Derek tried. He finished with a small hiccup that made Derek laugh.

“You done?”

“Yes- hiccup- sir.” Murphy said.

“Good, then Steve'll get you set up. You do good this year and we'll see about having a job waiting for you every summer, hows that sound?”

_like I'm on a fast track to prison_

“Great.” Murphy said. Derek grinned, clapping Murphy on the shoulder before yanking him out of the chair

“You do your job and we'll take care of you.” Derek said, his grip tightened in an unspoken threat about what would happen if Murphy didn't do his job. Murphy hiccuped in his face, Derek grinned. “Welcome to the team kid.” Murphy let himself be shoved at the man he guessed was Steve.

*

Being a drug dealer, Murphy found, wasn't all too hard. They started him off on weed. His bag loaded up with a ridiculous amount of it, a few handfuls of different sized baggies, a set of scales and instructions on prices and measurements.

Murphy would simply weigh out what someone wanted when he got a call and then go meet them, exchange the bag for the money and leave and, if Murphy could do it without getting himself arrested, sell things to other people who weren't yet Derek's clients. His mums friends were always fairly good for that. Not that they knew they were doing it. Murphy didn't want his mother to see, so he'd simple sneak over, take twenty quid from their wallets and drop a low twenty in their bag, because no way in hell was he about to give those arseholes good deals, and then watch as they found the weed they'd 'forgot' they had a few hours later with bright grins and excited cheers like they'd won the lottery, not been conned into buying drugs by an eleven year old.

Whenever Murphy ran out of his supply he'd go back to Derek's where he'd hand over all the money he'd made, get loaded with more of everything, given his cut of the profits and then be dragged to a slightly terrifying meal with Derek, he wasn't sure why exactly, he'd seen some of Derek's other workers, they'd be in and out within ten minutes. Most of the time Derek wouldn't even see them.

It seemed Derek was fairly careful about who he dealt too, or at the very least, who he sent the younger kids too. Despite being high as kites they were generally nice. Parents who liked to have a sneaky smoke in the garden when there kids were asleep or college kids picking up for a house party.

Before he knew it he was slowly filling his pockets with money and counting down the days until he'd be ready to go stay at Clarke's house and attend the Quidditch world cup .

*

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY DEARRRRRR MURPHY-” Murphy winced at the three voices ringing shrill. Dax, Atom and Mbege stood on his door step, like carollers. Although, the one time Dax's mother had convinced them all to go Carolling Murphy was sure that at least Atom had a much nicer singing voice than the one he was currently assaulting Murphy's ears with. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOOOOOOOO-” The next door over swung open with a crash.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Veronica, Murphy's eight year old neighbour yelled.

“YOOOOOUUUUUUUU” The three finished n a note that left Murphy clapping his hands over his ears and wincing.

“You're all arseholes.” Veronica said.

“Someone's grumpy today. Did mummy forget to change your nappy?” Dax said. Veronica levelled the four of them with an ice cold glare.

“My dad will kick your arse.”

“Go on then, Run along to Daddy.” Dax said, waving her back into the house. Veronica puffed up her chest stomping forwards leaving the four of them watching her curiously. She raised a leg, swinging it forwards roughly and before Dax could jump out of the way levelled an impressively powered kick to his shin. “OW! You little bitch!”

“DADDY! THEY'RE TRYING TO HURT ME!” Murphy startled with the others.

“You fuc-” They didn't let him finish, three pairs of arms shoving at Dax to get him moving, the sound of loud footsteps thundering down the hall towards them as they raced towards the stairs. Leaping down them easily. Murphy heard the door slam open as they sprinted across the estate. He came to a stop before long, the four of them stumbling to a stilted walk in an alley as they caught their breath. Mbege swung an arm around Murphy's shoulders, leaning a bit too much making Murphy bow down beneath the weight.

“So..happy Birthday.” Mbege said. Murphy snorted, smiling goofily as Dax yanked him away from Mbege in a head lock, knuckle scrapping across his head too light to really be a noogie.

“You're almost a teenager.” Dax exclaimed happily, Murphy slapped him away. “One step closer to being legally allowed to do things like Drink and smoke and...” Dax waggled his eye brows and pumped his hips. “Sex.”

“Because something not being legal obviously stops us from doing it.” Atoms snorted, nodding to Mbege who was knocking a cigarette out of it's packet.

“Shut it.” Mbege huffed, tossing the cigarette at Atom. “He's right though. You not being legal isn't the reason you won't get any. Your face is the reason.” Dax shot him the middle finger.

“Hey come on that's not fair.” Atom said. “Some people go for personality.”

“Then Dax really is fucked.” Murphy ducked underneath the hit Dax aimed for his head, howling with laughter.

“You're all wankers.”

“At least we have the looks to make up for it.”

*

Murphy wasn't surprised when the boys led him to the closest wetherspoons. It wasn't exactly the nicest place. With a lingering smell of stale beer, piss and sweat no matter what time or day you went in, with lights a bit too dim, a floor that was always sticky, your shoes peeling off it with soft pops as you walked and Alcoholic's that basically lived there from when it opened at 7am to when it closed at just before 2am, but despite all that, the food was fairly good and a full English breakfast for five pence short of four quid could draw even the most uppity wankers from the estate to it's doors.

“Said it'll be fifteen minutes.” Mbege said, sliding into the booth Murphy and Atom had commandeered. Murphy snorted as Mbege cringed when his fingers stuck against the vinyl on the seat. Dax flopped in beside him, safely keeping his hands away from the sticky seat.

“So. Where are my presents?” Murphy asked, flicking a stray piece of salt across the dirty table towards Mbege.

“Me being here is your present.” Atom said.

“I bought you breakfast.” Mbege said.

“I got you a hot chocolate.” Dax hummed.

“Hot chocolate?”

“Mums at work, Dylan's at..Well, who knows he went out for milk three nights ago and hasn't made it back yet so I figure we got another two days till he stumbles in so we're going to go have a drink at mine. Figured we should line the birthday boys stomach and milks meant to be good for that.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“We're having a few beers at best.” Mbege said. “Mum's throwing you a party when she gets home so we have to be there and sober or she'll kick all our arses.”

“My teacher makes really good hot chocolate.”

“You drink hot chocolate with your teacher?” Atom asked, lips twisting in a bemused smile.

“You a teachers pet Johnny boy?” Dax flicked a piece of salt back at Murphy.

“He's cool.” Murphy grumbled.

“I think that's a yes.”

“I'm not a teachers pet.” Murphy snapped. “He's just.. I mean, like, My friends, ones the son of the headteacher. Wells, you met him-”

“He's a trip.” Mbege said with a fond grin. “Swear the kid had never even played Mario Kart before. Was all proper and-”

“Yeah well, There's him and then Clarke, who's the daughter of Abby who's like the deputy head or whatever it's called you know? And then there's Monty, who's the son of the herbology teacher-”

“Herbology?”

“Uh..Yeah..like gardening.”

“Gardening? You do gardening as a class?” Dax exclaimed. “what kinda school are you even going to?”

“The point-” Murphy said, ignoring Dax.”-Is that over Christmas I was stuck with the headteacher, the deputy head and their kids so I snuck into the kitchen and Wick, the teacher, he was there avoiding people too and you know, we chatted and shit. It kinda became a thing, I'll go to his office and we'll drink hot chocolate and chat, I dunno. He's cool.”

“Are you his bitch?”

“Fuck off Dax.” Murphy snorted.

“Can we go back to gardening class though?” Mbege said with a grin. Murphy groaned.

“Anyone else picturing him in wellies and one of those old lady hats?”

“We do it in the green house. We don't have to wear wellies. Or hats.”

“Green house? Your school has a green house?”

“A bunch of them yeah. Like a whole, green house area.”

“What else does your school has? Do you have a pool?” Atom asked curiously, his elbow running through a wet patch on the table.

“No pool. There's the lake though. With Sir inksalot.”

“Sir What?”

“It's..It's what Wick calls him, it's the Squid that lives in the black lake.”

“Your schools weird.” Dax said. “What else you got?”

“Uh. There's the quidditch pitch, the sport we play, there's courtyards, the forbidden forest. The thestral field.”

“The what field?”

“It's uh..What we call the horses.” Murphy said rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “They pull the carriages.”

“Carriages? Jesus, next thing you'll be telling us there dungeons.” Murphy shifted guiltily. “There are freaking dungeons?”

“Yeah. That's where my dorm is.”

“You live in the dungeons?”

“Yeah, it's actually really nice though.” Murphy said. “s'all sleek and fancy. We all have proper four poster beds, with the curtains and shit and it means we're close to the kitchens which is good for sneaking in there. And there's less stairs. My friend, Bellamy, he lives in one of the towers, lemme tell you the stairs to get there are deadly. You'd cough out a lung trying to get up to it.”

“Towers? Your school has towers?”

“Well yeah. It's a castle. The astronomy tower is-”

“Astronomy? You have a tower for fucking star gazing? You're shitting me right?” Dax asked. Murphy laughed shaking his head.

“Every Thursday night we'd have a class there. You go there for midnight and spend a few hours mapping out the constellations and stuff.”

“Can I go to your school?” Atom asked. The food arrived before Murphy could answer. Four plates with steaming breakfasts being placed in front of them.

“Well. Eat up birthday boy.” Mbege said, shovelling a sausage into his mouth. Murphy didn't need telling twice.

*

Once full up on food and hot chocolate that was nowhere near as good as Wick's they made their way to Dax's house, settling across the sofa and digging out controllers and beers for a day of lounging around.

When it was nearing the time Dax's mum would be heading home the four of them cracked pen every window and ran around shooting deodorant until it was hard to breath, shoved the cans to the bottom of the bin, drank some mouthwash and stumbled back onto the streets to make their way to Mbege's.

Lisa had decorated, sticking up cheap balloons with strips of duct tape and pinning a banner Murphy knew had to be at least four years old to the wall. The table was filled with paper bowls and plates filled with different snacks. One held a plate of cupcakes that Lisa proudly exclaimed she made herself. Trent had given Murphy a beer saying it was 'for the birthday boy' while Lisa scolded him for doing so. Murphy cracked it open and slurped a few gulps down before she could stop him at which point she'd conceded. Saying he could have that one and no more.

It was an easy evening, with them stuffing their faces with the snacks and watching as Trent and Lisa's grins got wider as they broke the barrier from sober to tipsy. When Trent had passed the next barrier to utterly sloshed when the man stumbled away and came back with an old dance mat and the next hour was spent with each of them hopping around, footsteps too loud, the downstairs neighbours banging a broom against the celling to try and shut them up while they attempted to dance along to old steps songs leaving them all laughing, especially when Trent had tripped over his own feet and ended up sprawled across the floor, beer spilling across the carpet and Lisa laughing so hard it sounded like she was about to choke out her own lung.

Dax and Atom left a little after eight, once they'd eaten most of the small cake Lisa had bought out, neither seemed to care about the wax that had dripped down onto it from the candles. Murphy left just after nine, when he realised he'd forgotten to feed Clawdia that morning. He took the last cupcake and left Mbege laughing as Trent and Lisa argued over who would go to the shop to get more beers.

*

He made it back quickly, cupcake balanced in his hand as he quickly opened the door, nervous that Veronica's dad would come out and punch him in the face for 'attacking' his daughter. He slipped inside moments later, the flat next door quietly. Clawdia mewled, rushing down the hall towards him.

“Hey sweetheart.” Murphy hummed, reaching down to pet her while she twirled between his legs looking up to him with pleading eyes. “Yeah okay, Just let me get your food.” Murphy hummed, Clawdia puffed up happily, rubbing against his leg almost tripping him as he walked down the hall.

He paused at the sound of the television, tinny voices echoing. His eyes flickered to the cupcake. Clawdia let out a loud cry, as if warning him not to do it.

“One second.” Murphy hummed, Clawdia scurried away from him, trotting off down the hall, tail ramrod straight as if she were judging him. He shuffled into the living room. Cleo made no move to greet him, glassy eyes locked on the screen, Murphy cringed as he noted they were red rimmed, tear tracks stained on her gaunt cheeks.

“Lisa made cupcakes.” Murphy said, inching closer before he reached out, placing the cupcake carefully on the coffee table next to her drink. “They're really good.” Murphy said. “Didn't even use a box of mix, made it all herself.” He prattled. Cleo's eyes moved to the cupcake, lip lifting in a sneer. “You know...for my birthday. Which is today, if you hadn't realised.” Cleo snorted, Murphy scrubbed a hand over his nose. “Alright well, I had a good day, just..thought you might want one. Lisa's a good cook.” Murphy waited, twisting his hands, nothing happened. “Night Mum.” Murphy said softly, turning around, ready to find his sock of food and feed Clawdia.

“Thought it was the happiest day of my life. When I had you.” Murphy froze in place, shoulders tense, breath stuttering. “You were so beautiful, so _perfect_.” She spat out it out like an insult. Murphy spun on his heel, watching as Cleo took a long drink of her beer before setting it back on the table, fingers clenched around the can.“Alex didn't. He said you looked like a squashed grape, but he loved you. Sent pictures of you to everyone we knew. Couldn't find a prouder father if you tried.”

“Mum.” Murphy tried.

“I was so proud of you, I thought I loved you more than I could ever love anything.” Cleo stood with only a slight stumble and came towards him. Murphy's legs felt like stone, gluing him in place. She reached out leaving Murphy fighting a flinch as her fingers brushed his skin. “You were my little angel.” Her hand was soft on his cheek, caressing and gentle and so cold, wet from the condensation of her drink leaving trails of freezing water stinging against his skin. “I would give you up in a heartbeat if it would bring him back.” There was no harsh tone, no hatred burning in her eyes just a bone deep sorrow. Murphy wanted to say that he already had given him up, that she was choosing to do every time she said something like that. Drawing them into a darkness Murphy couldn't conceivably pull them out of. Something that Murphy wasn't entirely sure he wanted to do any more. Her fingers trailed across his cheek as she pulled her hand away, feather light. “Happy birthday John.” It hurt worse than any slap kick or punch she'd ever dealt out.

Her footsteps were heavy as she brushed past him. The slam of the front door even heavier leaving him flinching, the television still rumbled quietly in the background. The beer forgotten on the table, little beads of water running down the can no doubt leaving another ring, the cupcake sat next to it, glow of the TV catching the fluffy white frosting leaving it glaring a frigid blue.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long :O i'll try and upload again real soon :) As always,comments/Kudo's are greatly appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> (I swear Bellamy will be in this Murphamy story for more than half a line eventually)


	16. Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?

Murphy watched Clawdia as she scoffed down her food, hand bouncing on his knee as he looked to the cupcake still sat on the table. He snatched it up, a tad too hard squishing the cake slightly beneath his hand as he ripped the paper from the bottom and shoved it into his mouth whole. He knew they'd been nice earlier in the day, that Lisa had topped it with creamy frosting that had made the boys moan as the bit into the cakes but he couldn't help the grimace as he chewed it. The ashy taste in his mouth as his stomach churned. He should have suspected it. The day had been too good to be true. He shouldn't have pushed it, should have just went back to his room quietly.

The boy jumped as Clawdia's head batted against his hand, still twitching at his side, her food bowl still half full as she let out a pitiful mewl and butted against his hand again, looking up at him with apologetic eyes. A small smile graced Murphy's face despite the nausea bubbling through him. His fingers moving to card through her short hair.

“You should go eat. I'm fine.” Murphy said, even as he lured Clawdia onto him by scratching beneath her chin gently. Her head bumped against his chin as if she could return the gesture and a laugh bubbled from him. “Thanks.”

He'd pulled out his phone from his pocket as Clawdia settled on his chest, purring loud enough to fill the room with the sound. Murphy clicked through the contacts slowly. Wondering what he planned to do. There weren't many there really, not in his real phone. In his work phone he had a good few dozen, but his phone, a cheap £3 phone from tesco he only had five contacts. Atom was first, Murphy skipped over it, Douchey Dax was the next contact, another Murphy skipped over despite knowing full well that Dax _would_ get it. His dad, Dylan, was about as scummy as Cleo but well, he didn't want to call him either. Mbege and Mbege home were the next two, both of which Murphy skimmed over leaving him at the last contact. Wick the Wizard.

Murphy ignored the pull in his gut telling him it was probably a bad idea as he shot of a simple text to Wick the man, despite his many many many quirks had somehow usually managed to cheer Murphy up. If anyone would be able to make Murphy forget about his mother before his birthday ended it would be Wick. He'd probably start up some stupid conversation about something like-

The phone buzzed viciously in his hand. Vibrations echoing through the room stopping Clawdia's purrs as she looked to the phone. Murphy eyed the small screen warily. Wick the Wizard flashing with a call.

He answered.

“Where are you? What happened? Are you hurt? Murphy you-”

“Wick. I message saying 'Hey, it's Murphy.' why are you freaking out?”

“because you're in trouble.”

“I'm sitting in the dark stroking my cat.”

“I really don't want to know what that's code for.”

“It's code for Clawdia is sitting on my chest and I'm stroking her. You idiot.” Murphy said. “I'm fine you didn't need to call I was just-”

“Just?”

“I don't know.” Murphy grumbled, shifting in place accidentally knocking Clawdia off. She left with a shake of her tail. His nails went to the hole in his sleeve, picking at a loose thread stretching it out and making the fabric bunch. “I guess I was bored? I mean. It's my birthday and mum went out so-”

“It's your birthday?!”

“Yeah.”

“Like..Right now?”

“Until twelve yeah.” Murphy hummed. “Look it was dumb, I'm just hyped up on sugar so-”

“I'll be there soon.”

“You'll be what when?”

“What kind of cake do you like-”

“Wick wait-”

“I'll surprise you. I gotta go, lots to do, not much time. See you in a few minutes.” Wick decided, hanging up before Murphy could get another word in edgeways. Murphy blinked dumbly at the phone as he pulled it away from his ear, dial tone ringing mockingly. His eyes skirted slowly around the room, the beer cans dotted across the floor and dusty surfaces. He couldn't have a teacher over. He'd end up getting expelled for..impurity or some shit. Murphy tried Wick again, it went to answer phone immediately.

He scrolled back through his contacts and dialled a new one.

“You need to come over.” Murphy said the moment the call went through.

“What? Is your mum-”

“No. She went out.” Murphy said. He heard Mbege's soft 'oh' of relief. “But you need to get over here right now.”

“You realise you left like five seconds ago, yeah? I mean, I'm flattered you're missing me already but-” Mbege said boredly, the tinny sound of the TV and Lisa and Trent's laughing echoed through the line.

“Will you stop fucking about my teachers coming over and I can't be on my Larry so-”

“Oh your Larry? Really Murph?”

“Oh fuck off. I'm panicking I'm allowed to talk like a chav!” Murphy hissed.

“Is he going to bad tou-”

“Don't even joke. Will you just get your arse over here so I can pretend I have friends and send him away before we have to have a heart to heart of some bullshit?” _or he sees the squalor I live in and decides I'm not Hogwarts material_ Murphy thought. “Please?”

“Your mums really out?” Mbege asked.

“Gave me a nice birthday speech and left. I doubt she'll be back for a few days.”

“Alright. I'll be there soon. Want to stay on the phone so-”

“I gotta tidy.”

“Are you fuc-” Murphy hung up. His eyes flickered around the living room, cringing as Clawdia jumped up onto the sofa again, knocking off a pile of clothes as she went. He groaned, trying to figure out where to start, hand running through his hair only for him to pause and grimace at the greasy feeling.

Hair first, then house.

He realised once his hair was already wet that they had ran out of shampoo. Murphy suppressed a panicked scream and rushed towards the kitchen, an awkward fast waddle as he tried to keep the water from dripping all over the floor. A few minutes later and his hair was clean, he doubted that anyone would realise that his hair now smelt like washing up liquid.

The good thing, Murphy thought, about washing your hair in the kitchen sink with washing up liquid was that he was next to the bin bags so it wasn't hard for him to fight a few off and begin running around the rooms shoving all the bottles and rubbish into it as fast as he could. It didn't take too long, years of practise of picking up after his mother had made him fairly well equipped to speed clean. The full and clinking bin bag was shoved beneath the kitchen cupboard before Murphy was running a wet cloth across all the surfaces he could see trying to remove the sticky film of spilt alcohol and any lingering powder that his mums friends might have left around.

It was barely fifteen minutes after Murphy had called Mbege when a knock sounded on the door, tapping in a cheerful rhythm that made Murphy swear, knowing full well it was not Mbege's knock, and launch the cloth through the open door into the kitchen sink with a small splash that made Clawdia hiss from her perch on the freshly plumped sofa cushions

“YEAH ALRIGHT I'M COMING!” Murphy bellowed, hands scrubbing through his hair, clean enough to eat off of, feet slipping on the carpet as he rushed towards the door. Wick was cool, if anyone would have looked down on Murphy for his house it would have been Abby and she'd just ended up buying him clothes.

 _It'll be fine_ Murphy thought, taking a calming breath _as long as your mum doesn't come back and Wick doesn't accidentally do magic in front of Mbege and-_ The lock had barely clicked before it was being pushed open from the other side leaving Murphy stumbling back hoping to God that it was in fact Wick and not a polite murderer who liked to knock rather than straight up break in.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Murphy jumped at the loud yelp of too many voices. His eyes widening as Wick pushed his way into Murphy's flat, followed by a stream of children. “Living room this way?” Wick asked, pointing down the hall as if there were any other way to go. Murphy gave a shell shocked nod, eyes flickering over the faces of his friends shuffling into the flat slower than Wick. Murphy flinched as Wick ruffled his hair before marching past. “Keep him busy for a minute.”

“What's going-” Murphy huffed out a surprised breath as a gentle slap landed on his chest.

“I can't believe you didn't tell us it was your birthday!” Clarke scolded. “I almost didn't manage to get you a present!” Murphy flailed as the girl yanked him into a surprisingly strong hug.

“Back of Griffin, the real friends need to greet him.” Miller snorted, pulling Clarke away and throwing himself into Murphy's still raised arms. Clarke puttered off towards the living room after Wick who Murphy could hear shuffling around.

“Uh..”

“Happy Birthday.” Miller said, Murphy could feel his grin against the skin of his neck, he quickly patted Miller on the back.

“Thanks. So what are you-” Miller was hauled away and replaced by Jasper. Murphy stopped asking questions and just let it happen after that. Monty, and Wells doing the same before they followed the others to the living room leaving only he and Bellamy in the hall. Bellamy leaning against the door, swaying on his feet.

“I didn't get you anything.” Bellamy said bluntly. “But I'll go easy on you during our first quidditch match if you manage to make it onto the team.”

“How generous of you.” Murphy snorted. “So..why are you all here?”

“Wick turned up at Clarke's crying about you being alone on your birthday and then they came and round the rest of us. I would've bought O but it's past her bed time so-”

“God you're so lame.” Murphy said with a small laugh. Bellamy huffed.

“Regular sleeping hours are important for someone her age.”

“What is she? A whole six months younger than you?”

“Shut up Murphy.” Bellamy snorted. Slinging an arm around Murphy's shoulder. “Happy birthday idiot.” and lead him towards the living room.

“SURPRISE!” Murphy blinked stupidly at the gathering of his friends and Wick, peering around the room at the decorations draped across the room, shiny new banners spread across the walls and streamers hanging from the celling in bright colours. A cake, that looked far too big to be real, was sat on the small coffee table, confetti floated down from the celling, twirling like snow flakes coating everything in it's path.

“What the-”

“It's a surprise party!” Wick said blowing through a streamer letting a shrill whistle pierce the air. “Birthday's are to be spent with friends, and cool teacher's who are more like big brothers than teacher, not alone stroking your cat.”

“What's that code for?” Miller asked.

“I say we play pin the tail on the donkey, I've heard that's very popular at muggle parties.” Clarke said.

“Do you have What's the time Mr wolf?” Wells asked curiously.

“That's not..”

“Presents then we'll correct their knowledge of Muggles yeah?” Wick suggested. Murphy wasn't about to argue when everyone but Monty and Bellamy pulled gifts from seemingly nowhere with a decided flourish that made Murphy wonder if they'd planned it.

“I'm sorry. It's just, it was _really_ last minute.” Monty said apologetically looking to the presents the others presented. “I could get you-”

“I don't need anything.”

“Thank god. I really didn't want to give this away.” Wick said, tucking his present beneath his arm.

“Give me my gift!” Murphy said, making grabby hands. Wick snorted, tossing a present at Murphy that he recognised immediately as DVD's.

Murphy wanted to say that he didn't laugh when he opened it to find different versions of Cinderella. Varying from the original Disney to the Selena Gomez dancing one but he couldn't. He didn't manage to stop the glee in his eyes when he spotted the Hilary duff version though, something he was sure he'd never live down if Miller had ever watched it.

Another knock sounded at the door.

“Are any of these magical gifts?” Murphy asked, looking towards where the front door hid behind a wall. “because a muggle is about to walk in so-” Mbege's set of keys sounded in the lock.

“Open mine later.” Clarke said quickly. Wells and Jasper nodded along in agreement, stashing the gifts beneath Wick's coat in the corner of the room.

“Heoholy shit.” Mbege came to sudden stop in the doorway, his eyes flickering around the room in awe. “How the hell did you do this in the time it took me to get here?” Mbege said with a low whistle as he jumped to bat one of the streams from the celling.

“They're..Quick decorators.” Murphy lied. Badly. Mbege shrugged, apparently uncaring about Murphy's house having magically sprouted decorations that would have taken at least an hour to hang normally, his eyes narrowed, skimming across the group.

“You didn't say we were having a party.” Mbege said. “I would have bought-” Murphy shook his head,widening his eyes at Mbege trying to tell him that suggesting beer or cigarette's would not be appreciated. “a change of clothes.” Mbege finished lamely, he cleared his throat, looking back to the group watching him with varying states of interest, jasper for one was more interested in one of the streamers, watching it shake as he blew upwards gently at it. “These your friends?” Mbege asked.

“No, they're a bunch of tiny burglars.” Murphy said. Mbege rolled his eyes.

“Hi I'm-” Monty begun.

“No. Let me guess.” Mbege decided stepping forwards and waving Monty off. He turned to Wells slowly, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, I know you're the posh one. Wellington was it?”

“Good to see you again John two.” Wells said quickly, a charming grin of his own in place.

“Low blow. We all know I'm John one.” Mbege scoffed, stepping towards Clarke “We'll go for the easy one, the only girl.” Mbege stepped towards Wick with a completely straight face. “Nice to meet you Clarke, you're taller than I would have expected.” Miller snorted, Jasper was finally distracted from the streamer and let out a delighted bark of laughter at Mbege's awful joke.

“Right so, this ones the hyperactive one then? Jason?”

“Jasper.” Murphy corrected. Mbege clicked at Murphy as if to say 'ah, almost there' before nodding to Jasper. “So this one's gotta be Monty yeah?”

“Nice to meet you.” Monty said with an easy grin that broke Mbege's straight face into a small returning smile. “So that leaves the teacher who enjoys spending time with kids too much-”

“Hey!” Wick yelped.

“Miller and Bellamy.” Mbege finished, his eyes dancing between Clarke, Bellamy and Miller. “Well. You're Miller.” Mbege said, pointing correctly at Miller who gave a nod of agreement. “So you must be Bellamy.” Mbege said sagely to Clarke. “He said you were a bitch. Which leaves the creepy teacher.”

“I can see why you're friends.” Bellamy said stiffly, looking between Murphy and Mbege with narrowed eyes. “You're both arseholes.” Mbege laughed, deep and throaty.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't leave Murphy having a bad birthday. Sorry it's short. I'll upload soon :)


	17. Catch the pigeon

Murphy thought it was decidedly strange having his school friends in his home. Over the school year, Murphy had come to feel comfortable around all of them, to the point where he could, in a way, let his guard down. They made him feel safe, perhaps because they were from Hogwarts, from the wizarding world that had yet to scorn him. His home made him feel anything but safe, he could relax, to an extent, he could joke and laugh, but for too long he'd grown accustomed to the house holding bitter memories. His house was ducking out of his mother's view when possible and waiting for the next shitstorm to hit. His friends, Hogwarts, it was easy, it was normal, doing homework and talking about freaking sports and drinking hot chocolate with his teacher.

For the first twenty minutes Murphy's stomach had been tied in knots, his brain running on overdrive while it tried to figure out what emotion he should settle on, the anxiety of home or the peace that his friends brought.

A hysterical and somewhat delusional worry that just being in his house could taint them. That they'd change from the relatively decent people he'd come to know into the sort of people he was more use to being in his house.

It was Bellamy who broke that chain of thoughts. When he'd accidentally kicked a beer bottle Murphy had missed in his manic tidying spree. The room paused for all of a moment as the bottle rattled, Murphy waiting for something to happen, for someone to start screaming and piecing together what his life was like. For Clarke to drag him out by his hair and march him back to her house. Then Bellamy, oh so subtly, had nudged the bottle beneath the sofa with his foot, actually whistling in deceit.

Murphy realised in that moment why Bellamy could never have been a Slytherin.

He also realised just how ridiculous he was being.If his friends were going to jump to any, mostly right, conclusions about Murphy's life away from Hogwarts, then something like his mother abandoning him on his birthday would be a far more likely clue to be picked up on than some dirty washing or a forgotten bottle.

“Dude!” Wells growled. “Don't just hide it that's so rude. Clean it up!” Wells didn't give Bellamy a chance to do that, just launched himself forwards snatching the bottle. “Where's your recycling Murphy?”

“It's not like it's my mess!” Bellamy said. “It was already there why should I have to-”

“Because it's polite,” Wells said. “Common courtesy. What if Murphy came round your house and found an old sweet wrapper and just shoved it behind your bed?”

“Those are completely different things, One I sleep in, I doubt he sleeps beneath the sofa.” Bellamy scoffed.

“It's still not-” Wells begun

“I got it.” Mbege huffed, snatching the bottle from Wells's hand and wandering off to the kitchen. He came back in a moment later.

“Surprisingly polite for someone who called me a bitch.” Clarke hummed nodding to Murphy like a father approving of his prom date.

“What? No, I didn't call you a bitch. I was calling him a bitch, but you look more like a bitch-”

“Why thank you,” Clarke said.

“Crap, no. I want you to know that I in no way think you're a bitch or look like a bitch. You're really very pretty and everything Murphy has said about you has been really nice...Well...as nice as Murphy gets you know?” Mbege said, whispering dramatically to Clarke who seemed to be fighting a smile. “But I also had to drag Bellamy so-”

“You joked he was a girl because you think that there's something funny about that” Clarke asked. Mbege froze, mouth dropping open as his eyes flickered around. “That we're lesser and something to be mocked because of our gender?”

“Um. Abort. Abort. Murphy she- I was...Murphy-”

“Tap out man. Tap out.” Wick whispered.

“I didn't mean to offend you. You know I love women, I mean my mums a woman and I-”

“I can feel him digging himself a grave here, can you?” Murphy breathed.

“Definitely.” Monty hummed thoughtfully.

“and like. There's this chick at school and she's like..real smart, beats me in every test and there's this other girl. Jess and she'll kick any one's arse. I wasn't saying that girls were in any way lesser than guys I was just- I'm going to be quiet?”

“Good plan.” Wells said, patting Mbege on the back as the boy hung his head in defeat. Clarke's eyes sparkled with amusement.

*

“No. Dude. No.” Mbege said with a laugh. “Seriously, do you live under a rock? What's the time Mr Wolf is just a game you play with each other, no pieces or consoles. Just yourselves.”

“Go on Mbege. Explain how you play with yourself.” Murphy mumbled. Juice spurted out of Clarke's nose as she let out a laugh, Mbege shoved Murphy off the sofa roughly.

“Prick.” Mbege gruffed. “It's a game kids play.”

“You are kids.” Wick said.

“We're almost teenagers.” Bellamy argued.

“Oh you're right, might as well get your Wills sorted out now then, not much time left to waste.” Wick said.

“We already have.” Wells said. “If I die Murphy gets my parents my room and my Xbox, Dax gets my ps2 and Atom gets my books. If Murphy dies I get Clawdia, Dax takes his football cards and Atom gets any money we find in his room.”

“What do you get if Dax and Atom die?” Monty asked.

“What kind of names are Dax and Atom?” Bellamy murmured.

“Coming from you?” Murphy snorted.

“Right so if Dax dies. Atom gets his stash of cigarettes and all his game consoles in return for taking care of his mum and wearing a dress to the funeral. I get Atom and Murphy gets his Pokemon cards.”

“And If Atom dies I get Dax and Mbege gets his books.”

“You've put way too much thought into this.” Wick said.

“Can we get back to the game?” Wells asked. “If there isn't a board or anything how do you play what's the time Mr wolf.”

“Alright so one person is the wolf. Wait alright stand up. I'll be the wolf. Murphy help me demonstrate.”

“Seriously?” Murphy sighed. Mbege didn't wait for a reply, just yanked Murphy from where he was still sprawled on the floor after he'd been shoved off the sofa. He shrugged him off. Making his way to one side of the living room while Mbege pottered to the other.

“So I turn my back.” Mbege said, turning his back to Murphy and standing amusingly close to the far wall, his nose almost brushing the wallpaper. “and then Murphy says-”

“What's the time Mr wolf?” Murphy chanted morosely.

“One o'clock,” Mbege said. “Right so now, Murphy can take one step forward and then you go again and-”

“Mbege it's not a hard game toddlers play it.” Murphy snapped. “Either he plays or we don't play. I'm not demonstrating it on my own.”

Which is how Murphy ended up spending the last hour of his twelfth birthday playing What's the time Mr Wolf with one of his teachers at a party that had been magically put together.

When Veronica's dad pounded on the door at half twelve telling them to shut up with the screaming – most of which had been Wick each time the 'wolf' had shouted dinner time – they finally settled down in front of the TV to watch A Cinderella story. All holding mugs of steaming Wick family hot chocolate.

“Alright..I'll admit, this is way better than the spoons hot chocolate.” Mbege murmured.

“It's better than any hot chocolate.” Wick said defensively. “I've said it to Murphy, so I'll say it to you. Once you can drink, I'll make it properly with a shot of firewhiskey.”

“Firewhiskey?” Mbege repeated. “Is that like those flaming shots?”

“Sure.” Wick hummed, gulping down a few mouthfuls of his drink and shifting his eyes back to the TV guilty.

“I could go for that. I'm pretty sure there's Whiskey in the house and I have a lighter.” Mbege decided.

“You..Want me to make your drink alcoholic?”

“I mean, that's the way it's supposed to be had right? And it's not like a shot of whiskey is going to get me sloshed.”

“Pretty sure I'm not allowed to give alcohol to minors.”

“I'm one hundred percent sure it's not illegal to give a child over the age of five booze as long as it's at home or other private property.”

“I don't know.”

“Come on man. It's Murphy's birthday. He said you were cool.”

“You said that?” Wick asked giddily. Murphy ignored the question.

“What's one shot going to do?” Mbege snorted.

“Kill of brain cells.” Clarke suggested.

“And it's not like you have a lot to lose.” Murphy murmured.

“I'll have one if he's having one.” Jasper said, holding his cup up in the air like an offering. Wick stayed seated for a moment before he sighed and stood up.

“Great, Do any other minors want me to give them alcohol or-” Monty, Miller and Bellamy lifted their mugs in the air. “Put your mugs down no ones getting alcohol.” Wick scolded. “Seriously, I'm a teacher who's friends with most of your parents I can't go around getting you drunk.”

“Buzzkill.” Jasper whispered.

“Shut up and watch the film.” Murphy huffed.

“I swear when you're old enough I won't get in trouble for it I'll get you all wasted.”

“A true role model.” Miller said.

*

Murphy had thought that after a strange night of his Muggle and Magical worlds meeting and watching Mbege try to explain simple muggle games and electricity to Wells he'd have been a part of enough strange situations to last for at least a few days.

He was wrong.

Murphy was busy cussing Wick out under his breath as he tried to pick the streamers from the ceiling, that the man had oh so nicely left there when he left on his journey to take the renegade bunch of young wizards, and one Mbege, home, when he heard the door fly open.

“You know how Atom's birthdays coming up?” Dax said, marching in as if it wasn't strange he'd just essentially broken into Murphy's home. “the fuck happened here?” Dax asked, peering around at streamers.

“Friends from school did a surprise party.” Murphy murmured, hopping off of the table, dropping a pile of streamers and flopping onto the sofa.

“Fair..So, like I said, Atom's birthday's coming up.” Dax said.

“His birthday was three months ago.” Murphy pointed out. Dax's eyes narrowed.

“Shut up you know what I mean you prick.” Dax snapped, face red.

“I don't, but we can pretend I do if you want.” Murphy said hiding a yawn behind his hand as he waved for Dax to sit down. Dax didn't move. “So Atom's birthday?” Murphy prompted.

“I got him a present. I need somewhere to keep it until I can get him round and Dylan would kill me if I bought it into the house so-”

“What the hell did you get him? If it's a stripper-”

“How would I get a stripper?” Dax said. “Look it's-” Dax's bag wriggled. A small yip sounded drawing Murphy's eyes. Murphy held his breath.

“Dax..Why is your bag barking?”

“I told you..I got Atom a present for his birthday.” Dax put his hand in his bag and pulling out what had to be one of the cutest dogs Murphy had ever seen.

“What the hell is that.” Murphy gasped, watching as the dog wiggled in Dax's hands.

“It's a puppy innit.” Dax said, looking to Murphy as if he were an utter moron. “Like one of those mountain dogs I reckon.”

“You got Atom a puppy?”

“S'not like I bought it.” Dax grumbled. “Just found him.” The dog barked again, a small yip that made Murphy suck on his lips to stop the smile and fawning. It had soft looking fur that went from black to tan to white. Murphy noted its paws were different colours. The back left and front right were both plain black, but the front left was fluffy white fur that looked like a sock and the back right the same but in tan. Murphy wanted to touch them.“So..can he stay? Just for a few hours.”

“What about Clawdia?” Murphy asked half-heartedly.

“Well, she lives with owls at school right? I figure a puppy will be no big deal.” Dax said with a small shrug, the puppy kicked it's little white paw.

“Will you put it down?”

“But...He's so soft.” Dax said defensively, pulling the puppy closer to his chest

“I can't believe you put it in your bag.”

“Well it's not like I have a lead.” Dax gruffed, falling onto the sofa next to Murphy and rolling the puppy onto his back on his legs, his fingers danced across the puppies stomach, the dog's legs kicking madly as he tried to nibble at Dax's fingers.

“If he craps on the floor you're cleaning it up.” Murphy sighed, inching his hands forwards and grinning as his fingers stuck into the soft fur. Clawdia jumped up onto his lap, forehead slamming against his chin, a small hiss rattling out directed at the puppy making it whine in a cry that could easily break Murphy's heart.

“Clawdia no.” Murphy huffed, Clawdia's paw slapped against Murphy's hand, forcing him to move the hand away from the dog. Clawdia purred, nudging him again.

“Possessive much.” Murphy grumbled, moving his hand to Clawdia's back and watching Dax pet the dog with only a small amount of jealousy as Dax pinched the tan paw lightly, wiggling it about like it was a baby's foot. “I gotta ask. Did you steal it?”

“Nah. Saw this kid selling them.” Dax hummed.

“Thought you didn't buy it.”

“Well, I didn't. Not exactly. I traded my skateboard for it while the mum wasn't looking then I legged it before she could notice.” Dax said with a small laugh. “The kid told me she was going to be the next Tony Hawk.”

“Not any more. Her mum'll break her legs for making her lose out on a couple of hundred quid.” Murphy snorted. The puppy flipped itself over, scrambling off of Dax's legs and onto the floor with a thump.

*

By the time Mbege had arrived, being notified of the puppy situation Dax had foraged an old bandanna from deep in the crevices between sofa cushions and tied it around the puppies neck as a makeshift collar. Mbege had spent a good twenty minutes pretending to bite the animals paws as it tried to return the favour by licking his face. By the time Atom was knocking at the door, the puppy was back on the floor and had chewed a small hole through its bandanna collar.

“He's here. Okay. Shit..we should have wrapped him.” Dax fretted, waving for Mbege to go stall Atom at the door.

“How the fuck do you wrap a dog?”

“You don't.” Mbege sighed, stomping out of the room.

“We could put him in the bag again?” Dax suggested, looking towards his bag. Murphy picked up the puppy. Ignoring its soft bark and the way it began to nip at his fingers gently. He placed it in Dax's arms.

“Just give it to him. How you do it isn't a big deal. It's a dog; he probably won't even remember our names once he sees it.” Murphy pointed out.

Atom appeared in the doorway, unable to see the puppy hugged to Dax's chest. Dax's eyes widened. Murphy waved for him to go. Dax shook his head.

“Atom Dax got you something,” Murphy said.

“Bastard.” Dax hissed before he turned around too fast, marched towards Atom like a man on a mission and all put threw the puppy into his arms. “Happy late birthday or whatever.”

There were a few moments of silence as Mbege joined Murphy and Atom looked to the squirming puppy in his arms, to Dax and back to the puppy his eyes wide as saucers mouth hanging open.

“You..Is this a joke?” Atom asked slowly.

“Yeah. I like to get my mates dogs just for laughs.”

“You got me a dog?” Atom breathed. His eyes flickering to Murphy and Mbege. Murphy nodded solemnly.

“He got you a dog.” Mbege said.

Murphy wasn't even surprised when Atom's eyes filled with tears, his bottom lip quivering.

“You got me a dog?” He cried. “Can I keep him?”

“Nah it's a loan. Course you can fucking keep him.” Dax snorted. The mix between a cry and a laugh Atom gave made Murphy wince.

“Thank you.” Atom sobbed, sinking to the ground and burying his face in the puppies fur. “I love him he's so perfect.”

“Oh don't get all gushy it's just a fucking dog.” Dax grumbled.

“Look at his face! He's perfect!” Atom insisted, holding the dog up to Dax like Simba at the beginning of the lion king. The puppy blinked it's big brown eyes at Dax, wiggled it's butt tail flapping in the air and gave an excited woof. Dax dropped to the floor across from Atom, watching the puppy reverently.

“I'd kill for him.” Dax said.

“We need more normal friends.”

“I dunno. If we filmed this, we definitely would have gone viral.” Mbege murmured.

“Then we need more normal friends or a camera.” Murphy decided.

It took the boys five minutes to compose themselves and another ten for Atom to let the puppy go.

“He needs a name.” Atom said, watching the dog with shining and a dopey grin. It was trying to reach Clawdia, who sat on the very back of the armchair looking down at it with what Murphy could only describe as a sneer.

“What about Yeller. Like the film dog.” Mbege suggested.

“Have you seen how that film ends?!” Atom hissed.

“We're not naming him after a dead dog.” Dax said

“So I guess Marley's out then?” Murphy said. “I like-”

“You named your freaking cat Clawdia; you don't get a say in this.” Atom said seriously. Clawdia turned her glare on Atom. The puppy tried to jump up to her only to tumble over. “What about Tramp, like lady and the tramp you know?”

“Nah, that's lame.” Dax sighed. “Flea.”

“You want to name our dog Flea?” Atom asked, appalled.

“Our dog?”

“Well, he does take after you with the slobbering, only fair you get joint custody.” Atom said.

“So we'll be like his dog dads?”

“Yeah. We'll be his dog dads.” Atom grinned, shaking his head fondly.

“Why don't you call him brokeback?” Mbege muttered.

“Go fuck yourself.” The boys said in sync. Murphy hid his laugh behind his hand.

“What about Damian?” Murphy suggested.

“Nah, he's too cute for a Damian.” Atom sighed. “What's that dog. The one in that TV show.”

“That was so specific, I know exactly what TV show you're talking about.” Mbege said dryly. Atom rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, You know, the one with the plane.”

“Pippin? From come outside?” Murphy guessed.

“Nah the cartoon, with the plane and the..you know” Atom started humming a tune. “Catch that pigeon now!” He sung.

“That's Muttley.” Dax said.

“Muttley.” Atom repeated, the four of them turned to the dog. “Hey are you a Muttley?” He whistled. “Hey Muttley come here.” The puppy's head turned, Ears twisting like satellites as he took a stumbling step towards them.

“That's it, who's a good boy, come on Muttley. Come to daddy.” Dax breathed.

“What so Damian's not cute enough but Muttley fits the bill?” Murphy asked. Muttley barked, his 'fathers' cheered. Ignoring Murphy.

“I never thought I'd say your posh friends were cooler than these guys.” Mbege sighed fondly.

“We spent the night playing What's the time Mr Wolf. I don't think any of us know what cool is.” Murphy said. Watching as Muttley tottered over to Dax and Atom, both who cheered him on like he was a toddler taking his first steps.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is this??   
> I read through the old chapters and saw I mentioned Atom would wish for a dog so I just?? Had to ??? I'm sorry about this mess


	18. Through the wardrobe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slides in 3 years late with a shitty chapter and a half-baked apology. I'm sor-

“DAMMIT MUTTLEY!” Mbege bellowed. The three boys flinched at the harsh shout while Muttley whined. And scrambled up onto the bed to hide behind Dax. “Fucking dickheads! Your dog shat on the floor!” Murphy held back a snort, jumping off Mbege's bed and making his way out of the room. Dax and Atom followed tugging the sad looking Muttley after them. Murphy stopped as he spotted Mbege hopping as he tried to drag his sock off, a squished pile of dog shit pressed into the carpet of the living room. “I'm gonna kill that stupid dog!” He growled.

“He didn't mean to!” Atom said quickly. “He's still learning!” Trent peered around the door frame from the kitchen.

“He's a fucking menace. Train your dog or keep it the hell away from me or I swear I will-”

“Calm down. You used to shit on the floor when you were that age.” Trent said calmly. Mbege's mouth fell open, head snapping to Trent looking horrified while Dax howled with laughter. “One of you take him for a walk.”

“The dog or Mbege?” Murphy asked. Trent rolled his eyes, a smile twitching on his face.

“The dog, you mug.” He gruffed.

“I'm really sorry.” Atom sighed, dropping down to scoop Muttley up. “Come on Mutts, let's go out for a walk.”

“I'll come with you.” Murphy said. Trailing after Atom as he made his way to the door and snatching the puppies lead from the side. He'd spent the better half of a week watching Dax, Atom, and Mbege fight each other of FIFA, a walk would be a much-needed change of pace.

“Mbege, clean that up before it stains the carpet.”

“But-”

“Now Mbege.” Trent huffed. “Dax. Give him a hand, yeah?.”

“But Muttley-”

“Doesn't take three people to walk a dog, Dax.” Trent said.

“But I'm Muttley's owner! Not Murphy-”

“Go, go, go.” Murphy hissed, rushing Atom out of the house before he could be switched to poop cleaning duty.

He refused to let Atom stop to put Muttley down until they were two blocks away. The second Muttley touched the floor he began running around. Small legs propelling his body forwards leaving him almost clothes lining himself a few times when he reached the end of the lead.

“How long you reckon we should be gone for?” Atom asked, tugging Muttley back to his side.

“Till Mbege calms down.” Murphy said.

“So a few hours then?”

“Totally...You know. I've actually been meaning to head into central London. You reckon he could walk that far?”

“What the hell do you need to go into central London for?” Atom asked, following Murphy dutifully.

“Need to go the bank.”

“And there aren't banks here?”

“Not ones that I want to go to.” Murphy hummed. “Come on, we gotta go to mine first.”

*

Just over an hour later and they were almost there. Muttley had finally stopped running around, now just plodding by their feet looking up with sad eyes as if horrified they were forcing him to do so much exercise... Murphy spotted the leaky cauldron. Hefting his bag higher on his shoulder he turned to Atom.

“If you wait here, I'll be back in a few minutes and then we can head home.” Murphy said.

“Why do I have to wait here?”

“You can't take a dog into a bank.” Also, Murphy couldn't take a muggle and his dog into the wizarding world but it wasn't like he could explain that to Atom.

“I don't even see a bank.” Atom grumbled.

“Yeah well-”

“Murphy!” Murphy paused at the call of his name. Spinning around. He spotted the culprit soon enough. Bellamy strutting towards them laden down with bags and awkwardly shaped parcels, one of which he knew had to be a cauldron. A girl trotted after him, with silky brown hair and a wide smile.

“Bellamy?” Bellamy reached them dropping the bags at his feet and looking between Murphy, Atom and the girl with a breathless grin.

“Hey.” Murphy gave a small nod to say his own 'hey'. “O, this is Murphy. Murphy, this is Octavia.” Bellamy said, puffing his chest out proudly and shoving Octavia forwards as if Murphy needed to get a closer look. Maybe pin a medal on her saying 'good sister' like she were a contestant for Crufts.

“You alright?” Murphy hummed. Octavia nodded. “-I'm just goi-”

“Guess what we're doing today?!” Bellamy interrupted, pulling Octavia back to his side again. The girl in question rolled her eyes so hard her head rolled with it. A whine coming past her lips.

“Bell-”

“Shopping?” Murphy said dryly. Octavia's lips quirked in a smile.

“Yeah... We are. For Octavia's school supplies.” Bellamy said dramatically and really he was surprised that Bellamy hadn't forced them all to do a drum roll.

“Her school supplies?”

“Her school supplies.” Bellamy repeated, chest puffing up further. “She got her letter.”

“She-...You did?” Murphy asked, head snapping to Octavia who was busy glowering at the side of Bellamy's head.

“I told you she'd get one didn't I,” Bellamy said. “My baby sister's coming to-”

“Who's the cutie?” Octavia blurted, nodding towards Atom, hovering on the edge of the conversation.

“Oh. This is Muttley, he's friendly if you want to stroke him?” Atom said easily. Looking down to Muttley with a fond grin, the pup barked up at him.

“I wasn't talking about the dog but sure.” She said boldly. Murphy would have laughed at how quickly Atom's jaw has dropped and the way his eyes bugged out of his head were he not gaping just as much.

“Octavia.” Bellamy hissed. The girl ignored him, leaning down to pet Muttley while Atom blinked at her, eyes wide as saucers, his cheeks a rosy red like Dax's Moms went whenever she'd have one too many glasses of red wine.

“So Atom, How long have you had Muttley for?” Octavia asked, pressing a swift kiss to Muttley's forehead that had his tail wagging so hard Murphy was afraid it would act as a propeller and Muttley would fly away. Atom let out a soft crackle of a squeak before snapping his mouth shut again and turning towards Murphy with the same pathetic look Muttley had been giving them for half of the walk

“I think you broke him.” Murphy mumbled. “This is Atom. He usually talks. Muttley's new to the family.” An idea popped into Murphy's mind. “You wouldn't mind waiting with him while I go to the bank, would you? I just..You know, he can't really come to Diagon Alley, with the dog.”

“I mind.” Bellamy gruffed.

“I'd love to.” Octavia said quickly. Bellamy's glower hardened. “If you don't want to wait why don't you just go with Murphy. Me and Atom can watch the bags.”

“Sounds great.” Murphy decided. “Atom that alright with-”

“Yeah.” Atom croaked, nodding so hard Murphy worried for his brain cells.

“Alright. See you in a minute.” Murphy grabbed Bellamy's arm, yanking him away before he could complain. “So...Your sisters...Bold.” Murphy said, pushing into the pub, glad that Atom was now sufficiently too distracted to notice him going into a bar rather than a bank.

“She's trying to piss me off.” Bellamy grumbled, shooting one last angry look over his shoulder at the pair before the door swung closed behind them.

“Well..it is fun to do.” Murphy hummed. Bellamy turned the glare on him.

“A guy at her school asked her on a date. I said she was too young and now she's...hitting on basically every guy we see. Mr. Ollivander almost had a heart attack.”

“She hit on the old wand dude?”

“Vividly.” Bellamy hissed. “Come on. Let's be quick, I don't want to leave her alone with your friend.”

“Atom's nice. If he were going to shag her he wouldn't do it in the street.”

“She's eleven! There will be no shagging of anyone! Ever. At least until she's thirty or-” Murphy trudged along listening to Bellamy's declaration of defending Octavia's virginity to her dying breath.

“If you're going to preach about that then you should try the celibacy thing too.” Murphy hummed, pushing through the back door of the leaky cauldron. The hustle and bustle of Diagon alley could be heard immediately.

“Why should I have to-”

“Because that's like...equality or some shit. If she can't shag, you can't shag. It's only fair.”

“Shut up Murphy.” Bellamy snapped. “You're meant to be on my side.”

“If you want to haze the dudes your sister dates to make sure they're good enough for her then whatever but saying she can't date. That's just a dick move.”

“I'm protecting-”

“Controlling.” Murphy corrected. Bellamy huffed out a hiss through his nose that Murphy was sure would have left fire spurting out were he a dragon.

“You're an arsehole.”

“Yeah. But right now I'm being the enema to your arsehole.” The two boys blinked, coming to a stop as Murphy's words came out. Bellamy's head tilted.

“What?”

“I think that came out wrong.”

“You think?” Bellamy snorted.

“So. I'm an arsehole, yes, but right now you're the bigger arsehole. The alpha Arsehole.” Bellamy's head tilted further, his brows furrowing. “You saying your sister can't date is creepy and controlling.”

“She's elev-”

“And I bet she'll have a date that makes sense with that like...ice cream or some shit with a chaperone. That's what it was like hen Mbege went out with someone a couple years back. They won't be like shooting up In an alley so relax. It's her life, if she wants to date she can. If anyone breaks her heart or hurts her then you know, string them a tree, Avada them, whatever the hell you want but until then just don't-”

“Be an arsehole?”

“Exactly.”

“I don't like her dating.” Bellamy grumbled.

“And I don't like you talking but we all have to deal with stuff that annoys us.” Murphy wasn't fast enough to avoid the slap Bellamy clapped against the crown of his head.

“If she goes on this dumb date and gets hurt you're gonna have to help me hide the body.”

“Yeah alright. I'm already dealing drugs why not add murder into my list of crimes.”

“Wait what? You're. What? Murp-”

“It's a joke. Relax.” Murphy lied. Bellamy's brow pinched eyes flickering over Murphy's face for a moment before he gave a soft sigh.

“I don't get the Slytherin sense of humour.” He said. “Now Hurry up and do what it is you need to do. I still don't want to leave O with the dog whisperer for too long.”

“His names Atom.” Murphy said.

“The same Atom who smokes and once snorted pop rocks on a dare?”

“...Will it make you feel better if I said no?” Murphy asked. Bellamy groaned, shoving Murphy forwards with renewed vigour.

*

It wasn't long before Murphy had deposited the money he'd made into Gringotts, returned Bellamy to a laughing Octavia and still somewhat shell-shocked Atom and said short goodbyes, dragging Atom along behind him despite the boy's heart eyes to the departing Octavia. Something that Bellamy was obviously trying very hard not to notice. It wasn't long before the Blake's had disappeared from sight leaving the boys to pick their way back through London.

Or more, for Murphy to swerve his way through London dragging the spaced out Atom behind him and cradling the snoring Muttley in his free arm. He didn't doubt he'd have to make another few trips to Gringotts before he had enough money in their to pay for a world cup ticket but it at least meant that when his mother turned back up he wouldn't have to worry about her stealing the cash he'd already made.

“Cutie.” Atom breathed, voice full of awe. Like Lucy as she first stepped into Narnia.

“Aw..thanks. I know I'm gorgeous but it's nice for you to-” Murphy started earning his a slap over the head as Atom finally seemed to come out of his 'i've just realised what girls are' daze enough to shake out of his grip and start walking next to Murphy.

“I can't believe she called me cute. She's..she's pretty isn't she, with the-” He moved a hand waving it around his head, Murphy guessed he meant hair.

“She's fine.” Murphy said with a small shrug that Muttley didn't even seem to notice. Perhaps walking him that far had been a bit overreaching for the little guy.

“Fine?” Atom scoffed. “She's, the-”He made another hair gesture. “And funny. I mean, hilarious. She kept telling these jokes and Muttley liked her, right buddy?” Murphy ducked away before Atom could poke Muttley to try and wake him up to use as a witness for his crush. “What school is it you're going to? Can I..I mean can I go there?”

“You want to switch schools just so you can hit on her?” Murphy scoffed.

“I don't want to hit on her. I just want to talk to her. She seemed cool and pretty. Really pretty and cool, and funny.”

“Dude, did she break you?”

“She told me to owl her. What does that mean? Is it like the new Facebook or-”

“No, she means an actual owl... Like how Mbege talks to me when I'm at school.”

“Woah...She's so awesome.” Atom sighed once again. “How do I get an owl? Do I just like..catch one? They like mice right so-” Murphy let Atom rant, picturing him running around the shitty park near his flat waving mice as he tried to catch a pigeon when he realised he'd have to be lucky as hell to find an owl in London.

*

“What the fuck took you so long?” Dax grumbled.

“Atom fell in love.” Murphy sighed.

“What?” Dax and Mbege asked. Dax spun round in a truly dramatic fashion, looking ready to tie the pair of them to chairs and torture them for answers.

“We saw Bellamy and his sister. She called him cute.” Murphy said easily. He moved to the sofa, pushing Mbege to the side and flopping down Muttley gave a small huff on his chest but otherwise didn't wake up.

“Bellamy? that's one of your posh friends right?” Murphy remembered how Bellamy had face planted his dessert after a small bit of egging on from Miller and tried to eat it with no hands during the Halloween feast. He also distinctly remembered Bellamy's pained screams as the lemon sorbet he was snorting like a pig had gotten into his eyes.

“I wouldn't say posh.” Murphy said with a small grin.

“Mate, you can't date some posh chick.” Dax said.

“She was so beautiful, her hair, It was so shiny, how is her hair so shiny, is she-”

“Dude!” Dax growled. “No. If you're gonna date someone it's not going to be some uppity bitch from Murphy's school.”

“She wasn't-”

“I think you'd like her.” Murphy hummed. “From what Bellamy said she seems like a bit of an asshole and Atom, before you defend her honour I mean that as a compliment.”

“Come on Mbege, you're with me right?” Dax asked. Mbege gave a small shrug.

“As long as she doesn't shit on my floor I don't mind her.”

“Dude-”

“What? I met some of his posh friends. They're...I mean they're fucking weird, no doubt, but kinda cool. If Murph says you'll like her you'll probably like her.”

“But...She's _posh_ ”

“She who?” Trent asked, poking his head into the room once again.

“Atom's new girlfriend.” Murphy said.

“She's not my girlfriend.”

“He just wants her to be.” Mbege said.

“Most of the population have fucking hair, don't see why this posh chicks any better than a girl at school.” Dax mumbled, picking his nails with a scowl.

“I remember my first crush.” Trent said wistfully. “Mandy Sylvester. Prettiest girl in year four. Always had her nails painted as well so you know, she was mature.”

“Oh god.” Mbege groaned.

“And her hairbands always matched the nail varnish.”

“No one cares.” Mbege sighed. Dax nodded empathetically, Murphy was inclined to agree, he'd already spent an hour listening to Atom faun over Octavia. He didn't need to hear about Mandy.

“So you gonna ask her out?” Trent asked, shaking himself from his old crush nostalgia.

“Should I?” Atom breathed.

“Did she give you her number?”

“No, She told me to owl her.”

“And you say she's not posh?” Dax scoffed.

“Murphy, can I borrow an owl? I should, I should like message her yeah? Say it was cool meeting her, or that Muttley wants to see her again.”

“No no no. don't be so eager. Alright, boys gather round, I'll give you a lesson about women-”

“Yeah, no fuck this, I'm going out..” Mbege said.

“I'm trying to give you life advice here!”

“I know how to get a girlfriend.”

“Then why don't you have one?” Trent hummed.

“Because all the girls we know look like Murphy.” Mbege scoffed.

“Hey!”

“You coming?” Mbege asked, eyeing Dax.

“Oh yeah definitely.” Dax agreed.

“Do none of you want my advice?”

“No.” Mbege, Dax, and Murphy said quickly.

“Hey, your Mums hot and I managed to get her so maybe you should-” Trent started, Mbege and Dax walked out without another word. Murphy carefully laid the still sleeping Muttley down on the sofa and followed them out.

 


End file.
